Krait book 15e Chanting up a storm against le roi soleil
by slytherinsal
Summary: Darryl Zabini finds himself teaching chanting for a year in Beauxbatons. He has to contend with supporters of the would-be dictator, our old 'friend' Achille Villeneuve, breakfast without a fry-up and the truly dark nature of the picturesque French uniform. Fortunately there are kids there willing to learn to fight...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Darryl Zabini was frankly quite nervous about the whole concept of teaching, and in a foreign school.

Which was utterly ridiculous when you realised that he had been attending school in Austria for the last two years which was technically a foreign school; except that Prince Peak was run on English lines, with a largely English staff. And he had been prepared better than many because the school rules at Prince Peak required its pupils to be trilingual. Darryl chatted as happily in German and French as in English and could switch to the accent of Austria and could understand if not reproduce some of the dialects of Switzerland. Being part of the blood group helped there of course; it was easier to find languages others knew, and there were Swiss and Austrian as well as German members, ( and a few French. Indeed his beloved Mimi had been born French, had been a slave in a chateau for the first five years of her life before Severus had rescued her and made her his daughter. But his eclectic selection of languages did not alter the fact that Beauxbatons Academy of Magic was French in ways speaking the language did not cover; it was foreign in having an alien way of life. In Prince Peak, the pupils conformed, on the whole, to English customs, only the names of the meals and their times being in any way different. Kaffee und Kuchen took the place of high tea and was, as the name said, coffee and cakes. However Frühstück was still a good English breakfast of fry up or kippers or porridge with kedgeree as a side dish and croissants for those who felt continental and delicate or – in the case of most juniors – to eat to fill up any spare corners after two rashers of bacon, two sausages, two fried eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, fried bread and toast. Eleven and twelve year olds had the appetites and digestive capacities of goats and Darryl could not help wondering if Beauxbatons did less well academically than other schools because all the poor little slots got to eat in France was croissants and fruit juice. It was NOT, he felt, a breakfast on which to start the day.

Well he could take a frying pan and buy food and make his own breakfast if he felt it lacking at all.

The wizarding world at least had a fairly unified standard of education and its organisation; following the English fashion as England had been at the forefront of the wizarding world when such things were standardised. The French had been the most enthusiastic to accept the relatively new DOE, the Diploma of Ordinary Endeavour since they had an informal Brevet exam in the fourth year – the Troisième level – which was in line with the French Muggle educational system and which was now formalised as the EGG, the Examination Gagner General. It was already common for employers to take a reasonable mark at Brevet as an indication of moderate educational attainment, so changing the name and adding more details was very little change; save in terms of social change, when the possessing of such a qualification now permitted a French goblin to carry a wand. The equivalent to OWLs were the ELM, the Examinations Lycée Magique and the NEWTs were ELF, Examination Lycée Formidable. This then was no real difference; but he must remember that the forms started at the lowest with the Sixième and rose to the Premier that was the lower sixth and Terminale that was the upper sixth. Or failing that, one might just shout 'eh bien, vous p'tits gens horrible' as likely to cover anyone below the fourth year.

The school experience for the children was more akin to that of Durmstrang in some respects than that of Hogwarts; the children gathered in central France, near a town called Laroquebrou, making for a holiday-type lodge on a lake, which was much larger on the inside than on the outside. Designated teachers oversaw the activities of the children here as they foregathered, however, rather than tending to leave them to their own devices as was common in the hunting lodge of Durmstrang. They were nonetheless here to make friends over the twenty four hour period in which they would be arriving, and were then taken on in Beauxbatons Powder Blue flying carriages drawn by Granians to the palatial chateau in Provence that was the Academie. Darryl knew that as an anticipated visitor he would readily be permitted to see the Palais des Beauxbatons if he chose to go straight there; but preferred instead to overlook the children in the wild, so to speak, and would gather with them at the Lodge. And having a volunteer to help supervise them would not be likely to be turned down by such of the staff as were already there. It would not be a bear garden as Durmstrang was, by the accounts he had heard from Jade, inclined to be: one thing emphasised in the curriculum was good manners and, as the Italian members of the school might put it the 'Bella Figura', not seeming anything but perfect. But even as French chic on the outside could hide less cleanly habits then the English considered vital on the inside, so too was there much at Beauxbatons that appeared to be all style and very little substance.

Darryl had seen little to recommend their academic excellence in any of the Triwizard contenders he had seen or heard about. Darryl had been in the fourth when Lionel and Jade had made their joint win, had heard much about the French of the previous Triwizard from Victor who had been a first year when David did HIS Triwizard, and had also heard Ron and Hermione on the subject of the Triwizard Harry had taken part in and on Fleur Delacourt Weasley in particular. With whom, said Hermione, they got on better for only seeing her once a year. She was a good sort and meant well, apparently, but Hermione did not rate her as a witch. True Hermione's standards were high; but as it had been Severus' opinion that any one of the junior blood group of that era could have knocked any of the French into a cocked hat and most of the Germans too it did NOT argue for the French achievements since the Triwizard champion of each school was supposed to be their best.

xxx

Darryl walked from the railway station in Laroquebrou; it was a pleasant day and his trunk had sight-repelling charms on it, which were easier than invisibility because then at least HE knew where it was and only muggles failed to notice it as he had not bothered to make it anything but muggleproof. He was levitating cheerfully behind him under the dragging charm that he had anchored to himself. _Carpe Retractum_ was one of life's useful little spells, and was fun too to debate with people like Dione and Krait that as a rope of power was conjured it ought to be considered as a transfiguration not a charm. Darryl considered himself privileged to listen with about ninety per cent understanding to a highly technical explanation from Krait that the spell was cast in a similar way to a charm and that the rope was more a spontaneous and visible expression of the charm of joined force between two points. It was a track of energy rather than a conjured rope as such, and entirely different in immediate nature to, say, the magical ropes of the _incarcerous _ spell. He had used the lightness charm on his trunk too so pulling its contents was easier; and he reflected how nice it was to be a wizard and not have to rely on cumbersome technological equipment like muggles, be it never so ingenious.

He ran up the rustic wooden steps of the lodge – little more than a beach cottage – after admiring the scenery on the lake. Plenty of other summer visitors were enjoying the spot too, and sailing on the lake and sunbathing were common activities as far as he could see; and none of the muggles took the blindest bit of notice of him, since he had entered the unplottable region that protected the school gathering place with its muggle-repelling spells.

There was a sharp CRAC! behind him and three girls and a boy arrived by Portkey, giggling. Darryl winced inwardly; he HATED giggling girls.

Actually to be fair, only one of the girls was giggling.

The boy looked upon him with arrogance and the girls with frank speculation.

"My!" said the giggler "Your parents let you dress flamboyantly out of school; even Pharamond here isn't permitted that much liberty, are you coming new into the Premiére Class?"

She meant the lower sixth; and the silly creature had mistaken him for a schoolboy – DESPITE his adult and flamboyant style of dress. Darryl was wearing robes of crimson, which set his dark good looks off very well; and having been warned about the heat was wearing silk woven, for body to the fabric, with linen and trimmed with heavy but subtle gold Celtic knotwork embroidery, and a black academic gown over that. He regarded the girl.

"Little girl, I consider personal remarks to be rather insolent to one of your professors" he said; and swept away.

"You are an idiot, Hauvoise" said one of the other girls as he retreated.

"Well you never tagged him a professor either, Armandine" said Hauvoise "Did you, either, Medé?"

"Well he IS rather splendid and grown up to be a schoolboy" said the soft voice of the third girl.

"Thanks a bunch" said the boy. "Well, you silly creatures, let's get on in and you'll just have to live it down."

He sounded pleased that Darryl was a professor; and Darryl grinned to himself; he WOULD have been rather a rival to a boy who looked as though he considered himself class style leader!

xxx

Darryl lifted a finger to one of the elves waiting to deal with luggage.

"Professor Darryl Zabini" he introduced himself "I am unsure of the protocol with luggage; perhaps you will tell me?"

"If you have hand luggage I can take your trunk directly to the school, M'sieur Le Professeur" said the elf.

"I have self-washing underwear for the journey which comes to the same thing" said Darryl, who liked to travel as light as possible "And any semi competent wizard can conjure a toothbrush; so if you would be so good I should be grateful; thank you."

The elf bowed; and promptly disappeared with the trunk.

Darryl was being eyed by those who had already arrived in the light, airy meeting room that was the greater part of the lodge, dormitories and bathrooms opening off a corridor on each side, the windows that lighted the place all along the upper story of the high room used to eat and play games and mill about while others gathered. Most of those who had arrived had changed into school uniform – many preferred not to travel in uniform even as many children for the Hogwarts express changed on the train – and Darryl felt rather like a defiant flame in a sea of pale blue. The girls wore powder blue summer frocks and had little tailored jackets in the same fabric over them, presumably stiffened with either interlining or magic; and the shoulders had little capes or pelisses on them. The boys wore the same colour silk shirts, in the loose style one associated with French artists, and dark blue trousers. Which for all those from Sixième to the Seconde, the first to fifth year, were shorts. Darryl sent up a silent prayer of thanks to any Power that might be listening that he was English. Fancy wearing SHORTS until you were sixteen! It did NOT bear thinking of! Nor the velvet berets in the same dark blue, that seemed to be a part of the uniform specifically so the boys could doff them to the girls.

He stalked past the watching children to enter the staffroom.

There were two men and two women in there; the youngest he judged was one of the women who was probably the right side of thirty; the oldest the other woman who was about the same age as Minerva McGonagall. This one was reading a rather highly-coloured looking novel called 'Her broom against all odds' featuring a young woman in tattered robes of the Paris Puissance team being menaced by several evil-looking members of a team whose robes were not QUITE those of the Heidelburg Harriers.

"Oh it's too much!" declared the slightly younger of the two men – Darryl logged them as 'mature'- as the professor glared at Darryl "If you kids can't manage to knock and wait for invitation, you might at least have changed into uniform!"

"I believe" said Darryl, looking down his long and finely chiselled nose "That the uniform of a professor is whatever he chooses; I have already been mistaken for a child by a cheeky girl in the sixth, so presumably the much-vaunted French ability to read from the clothes one's status is somewhat exaggerated; along with the much vaunted French courtesy. Madame: Madame" he bowed to each of the female staff members.

"I'm sure it was an honest mistake" said the younger one "Belenos dislikes the beginning of term, it makes him a little erratic in the temper. I'm sure you'll forgive him."

"Oh certainly; as soon as he's apologised" said Darryl smiling. It was a smile he had perfected in front of the mirror because he had borrowed it from Severus; a smile that was nothing warm but nothing that could be taken issue over.

The man scowled.

"I apologise" he growled "I hate these brats when they run wild at the beginning of the term as Nine* says; and we HAVE had brats break in on us before thinking that rules did not apply to them, nor courtesies. Your dress is that of an adult wizard; but some of the more pure bred and stuck up of the little monsters think themselves very petit monsieurs from the moment they leave behind short trousers! I'm Belenos Étoilier and I teach Astronomy; Nine Napier here teaches Arithmancy, Horace Deveraux teaches Runes and Demophile Clairedelune teaches Divination. Do you play bridge?"

"I'm Darryl Zabini, here for a year to teach Chanting until the permanent teacher is ready; and I've played bridge but I would not log myself a particularly good player" said Darryl "Lucius uses me to make up a table at times, but I usually play with the Snape kids who spend more time arguing arithmantic odds with their face cards than playing."

"Some of the cards CAN be rather unsound in their judgement" agreed Nine Napier "How NICE to have children who know enough and care enough to bother!"

"Well I like a relatively quiet game myself" said Belenos Étoilier "But it will be nice to have a different style; Homère Tisserand takes it fairly seriously but none of the others are much good, even Nine here, and Elvira Van Diemen WILL go into some vague reverie and start building card houses!"

"Homère teaches Care of Magical Beasts and Elvira teaches Transfigurations" Horace Deveraux explained. "I recall seeing you at the Symposium at Malfoy Manor; you're a friend of the family?"

"In a way, I suppose so" said Darryl "Gorbrin Malfoy-Tobak is one of my best friends; and I've been a ward of Sev Snape for a couple of years; I'm engaged to marry one of his daughters."

"Excellent; if you're already engaged you should be able to make that quite clear to some of the more romantic and vapid of our girls who are likely to sigh over your good looks" said Horace. "Well, I know that Hercule Maxime rates Severus Snape's suggestion of a fill-in Chanting teacher; did you take Ancient Runes to the highest level, I forget the English for it?"

"Yes I did" said Darryl, repressing the urge to call him 'sir'; after all they were to be colleagues. "I consider Runes and Arithmancy to be two of the most necessary pillars for any kind of higher magic."

"So is that all you have studied? Those two and chanting?" demanded Belenos Étoilier "I should have thought that other basics might be needed for a chanter to hang his chanting on."

"Oh of course" said Darryl "But once you pass NEWT – or ELF – then Arithmancy permeates everything and runic associations become clearer. Naturally I have studied Transfigurations, Charms, Defence against the Dark Arts and Potions to NEWT level too, because I wish to pursue further research in parallel with my teaching career. I dropped, regretfully, Comparative Magic, Geomancy and Enchanting because I did not feel I was capable of pursuing more than seven subjects to the highest level; I'm not as clever as Gorbrin or Jade Snape! However I fully intend to study on my own time because there are so many fascinating interrelations."

"But not in Astronomy?" sneered Belenos.

Darryl shrugged.

"It's not offered yet at Prince Peak; but Professor Snape teaches enough for competent gathering of herbal components and potioneering" he said. "Though often chanting will help to overcome some of the temporal limitations imposed by the alignment of heavenly bodies. I've no interest in, or talent with, divination; for everything else there are almanacs."

The man was determined to be grouchy; so let him.

"Tell me, what do you think of our uniforms?" said Nine Napier hurriedly "They are more picturesque than the English costumes, n'est-ce-pas?"

"Picturesque? It's not the first adjective I'd think of" said Darryl "But then any English boy forced into shorts when as old as eleven years old – let alone fifteen – would consider it child abuse and grounds for prosecution. And I can't say I'd like to hear my fiancée and her friends on the subject of being made to wear stockings to school; not when socks are more comfortable. The English are more concerned with comfort than being er, picturesque; picturesque children tend to get teased for being so, and I have to say that the more picturesque children we have had either rapidly shed the image as soon as they are out of sight of their mothers or are the most awful little monsters of vanity who deserve to be picked on for their bad attitude."

"Ah, but surely at 'Ogwarts there is Chrysogon Rufus?" demanded Nine "He is no monster of vanity surely?"

"No, he's a demon of mischief and usually covered in mud, slime or something equally un-picturesque" said Darryl "Because he's a perfectly normal little boy who wore the long curls purely to make money for his mother, which makes him a damn fine fellow. But when he's been up and down a few trees or rolled down grassy slopes or engaged in a game of Hurley he's just as disreputable an object as any small child; and I can't see how silk frocks stand up to rough play."

Nine gave a little shriek.

"But no nice little girl would play Hurley – it is a rough goblin game! And nor would they climb trees! Such things are not for NICE children!"

"Funny how Lucius Malfoy disagrees with that and encourages HIS kids to enjoy themselves" said Darryl "Well I must say I'm sorry the children here are so poor-spirited and deprived of the joys of childhood; but then the ethos of the various schools have to have different emphasis I suppose."

He did not say, but he thought, that with Durmstrang so very much tougher than other schools, the Europeans not academic enough for Prince Peak did need a school for sissies.

Honestly, SILK!

"Oh some of our choicer spirits do manage to get into trouble" said Horace over the air of faintly offended silence "They bring with them play clothes for the weekend."

"Well I'm glad to hear it" said Darryl "I was wondering how precious poppets survived the real world when they left their silken cocoon but if they have the chance to dress down and play properly at the weekends that relieves my mind. I must start a hurley league while I'm here; it was a game of the fey before it spread to both muggles and goblins, Nine; it is not purely a goblin game, and if it were, it would not stop it being jolly good fun. We play at Hogwarts and a softball version at Prince Peak which I think might suit the little darlings here a little better."

The air of offended silence became deeper.

"The youngest children do not wear silk, but linen" said Horace "Those of the Troisième and above MAY wear silk dresses; there are also silk-linen union dresses and shirts for that age group. It is only in the two senior most years that they are EXPECTED to wear silk, and the boys to wear velvet trousers."

"Ah, that is more practical" said Darryl. "Putting small children into costly and easily damaged fabrics did seem rather medieval and I confess I was shocked for it seemed an undue cruelty akin, in its own way, to the wearing of the heavy garments expected at Durmstrang. My mother insisted on dressing ME picturesquely when I was small but I was glad to escape into school uniform and get away from such horror, I can tell you! But then, she has been proved to be insane and is confined in a secure ward; so I suppose she is to be forgiven under such circumstances for such unnatural behaviour towards her son."

"You English are BARBARIANS!" declared Nine.

"Thank you" said Darryl, bowing exquisitely. "Well while we wait I shall take any who would volunteer outside to play a knockabout game of Hurley; coming, Horace?"

"Why not?" said Horace. "Your permanent replacement, will she keep it up?"

"I doubt it" said Darryl "They don't play it at Durmstrang; one hesitates to call them sissies, but they're not exactly that tough there."

That ought to shock and horrify Nine Napier and the equally disapproving Demophile Clairedelune.

"How NOT to win friends and influence people" said Horace dryly as they left the staffroom.

"I did mean to keep a low profile; but I'm only here for a year so I guess it doesn't matter how many people I offend" shrugged Darryl "It seems to me there is too much complaisance in Beauxbatons; which as there ARE supremacist undercurrents in France as anywhere is a little worrying. And frankly I can't see a bunch of silk-clad precious poppets fending off attacks by supremacists; there are part goblins here now I hear, and I should hate to learn that they and any muggleborn were meekly handed over for summary trial and execution to the first group that came and tried to get rough."

"I had not thought of that" said Horace "Is it possible?"

"Eminently" said Darryl.

"Excuse me sir" a dark haired girl of about fifteen dropped a curtsey "I did not mean to eavesdrop but it that so? That we are to fall under attack by racists?"

"I did not say it was certain but that it was extremely likely – in one form or another" said Darryl "Probably more likely in the attempts to woo you to the ideals of those who do not like to see people from backgrounds other than those of pure bred wizardry have any power permitted them. What is your name?"

"I am Lucretzia Filotti, M'sieur" said the girl "And I do not like the thought that we should be manipulated any more than attacked. How may I learn to help defend against this?"

Darryl glanced quickly at Horace.

"Perhaps you should do what is custom in English schools and form a club to practise defensive spells, discuss matters that arise and run early in the mornings to enhance stamina for the better sustaining of spells" he said.

"And will you lead us sir?" She gave him a frankly inviting look.

"Not without a chaperone; I'd be afraid to be among a group with older girls in, lest I suffer a fate worse than death before I marry my fiancée" said Darryl gravely. "I'm keeping myself pure for her."

She gave him a rueful grin.

"I will talk to people" she said "Would it be for all ages?"

"Such is the custom in England" said Darryl "And all people within valid and equal; which means better discipline in class not to view prefects or staff as equals outside the club. You could collect together first those who might wish to play a knockabout game of Hurley if you like; I will go on outside and transfigure sticks into hurley sticks for as many as may wish to play."

She dropped another little curtsey and ran off.

Lucretzia came outside with better than a dozen other youngsters.

"My sister is an idiot and whines at the idea of putting herself out" she reported with scorn "These ones are ready to try; the greater number are in the Sixième and have no preconceived ideas, some of the boys only want to emulate you and the girls who want to eye you up will come and watch I have no doubt. I have told them you are engaged" she added "And are so off limits."

Darryl saw at a glance that two of those keen to try were part goblin; the older, a girl, with less goblin in her, sneered firmly and made comment that one might as well pass the time somehow; ah, that was armour. The younger, a boy, was fully half goblin and seemed enthusiastic. There was also a family, two girls and a little boy, who looked to be part fey; and with hair decidedly chartreuse in colour not blonde, evidently of some specie of wood nymph. And probably second generation or they would not have a brother; unless their mother was an exceptional woman whose love and will power exceeded her nature. Of the oldest, one was the quiet girl of those who had arrived right behind him; and she flushed.

"It seemed cowardly not to give it a go" she murmured.

He gave her an approving nod; and put her as one team captain and Lucretzia as the other and got them to pick teams.

They exchanged a look.

"Please sir, will you assign Marc Guiscard and Stephan Belette each to one team?" asked Lucretzia "As you do not know them there can then be no argument over who chose whom and why."

Darryl surveyed the two young men who were studiously ignoring each other.

"You – that team. You – the other" said Darryl "And if you get carried away and play rough I'll drop both of you in the lake."

They gave him a startled look and went meekly to their teams. The boy who had been with the quiet girl and the two others was also one of the volunteers and he gave a sardonic chuckle. He looked on Darryl with something akin to hero-worship; and Darryl half sighed and was half pleased because an older boy might be an ally to prepare Beauxbatons for the inevitable. Desolina, from what he had heard, was not going to be strong enough to run anything; but a good grounding might at least mean she did not have to. This boy- he had been named by the giggler as Pharamond – had been stylishly dressed when he arrived and wore his uniform – long trousers so in the upper two years – with an air of panache, his beret perched rakishly on his blonde curls. The sardonic green eyes prevented him from being too pretty.

Darryl ran through the rules of Hurley; told them that they were just going to play to try to get the ball through two goals and never mind anything fancy; set up the goals, produced a ball from the end of his wand – the older ones applauded – and showed them how to control it.

"If you have fun and want to play more, we'll practise ball control another time; but it's too much like a lesson to be fun at first" he said. "Ready?" as he placed the ball between the two impromptu captains "PLAY!"

They played a lot more decorously and politely than English children, being a little nervous of the sticks.

"I've played French Pro Quidditch teams at Prince Peak – and the beaters don't play like they're afraid of their bats!" called Darryl. "Come on; let's have a bit of verve and élan!"

He got it from some at least; and applauded. The children started to throw constraint to the wind and have fun; and he was approached by two small boys who asked if they could join in.

"We've just arrived" said one.

"We're starting this term" said the other.

"We're Josef and Jeroen Bolland from Belgium" said the first.

"Go in and report; have your trunk sorted; change into uniform and then you may come out" said Darryl "We may have finished but there will be other opportunities."

They ran off happily.

When they returned, Darryl had called a halt to rest the players.

"M'selle Filotti may have told you" said he "That I do not rule out the possibility that, having lost the opportunity to control Durmstrang and Hogwarts and Prince Peak that there are those supremacists who might try their hand at Beauxbatons. As all of you have had a go at what is often – erroneously – designated as a purely goblin game, and sit cheerfully on the grass with the part goblins and fey amongst your number you are evidently of the tolerant kind. This being so I imagine that you would NOT take kindly to being so taken over; and it is a tacit understanding from your Headmistress that English ways of defence should come to her school through me" he added; Madam Maxime had told him how pleased she was that an English chanter should teach for a year so her children might learn techniques to be better prepared in case of any eventuality; there were no flies on Olympe Maxime an she could see which way the wind blew in certain quarters; and as a half giant she too was in jeopardy.

"M'sieur Professeur Zabini told me that the English children have a club of those who will fight" said Lucretzia giving him and admiring and regretful look that somehow hoped his fiancée would drop dead. Well he must live with that; she had ideals above her obvious admiration for his physical charms.

"Yes; it was called the 'Muggle Studies Hobby Group' in England to hide its true purpose from the children of the followers of Voldemort" said Darryl "And when Nefrita Von Strang infiltrated Durmstrang she called her group the 'English Customs Club'. I would suggest the latter as possibly a better name here. The aim is to make oneself as good as one can be; to learn extra curricular defensive spells; and to try to sort out the personal problems of the members – this being trouble usually caused by bullies, or foolish parents or a member of staff holding a grudge – because it is about brotherhood. Only by being close can one actually hope to stand together and fight evil; and so I am wishful to see the two boys who hold such enmity for each other and see if I can't sort it out."

"They've always been rivals, sir" said Pharamond "Since they first got to school they have fought over who was the best at this or that, who had the greatest flair, who could impress the girls best and so on."

"Then you boys will have to do something a little radical and go quietly away together and discuss whether your rivalry is more important to you, or the chance to do something for your school and the political future of France" said Darryl. "I'll not have in-fighting; it will end in factionism and that spoils any organisation. If you are prepared to keep your rivalry to a level of friendly bickering – and one would have thought you were old enough by now to have grown out of such childishness – then you may stay in. If not, I will not accept you."

The boys in question looked at each other.

One held out a cautious hand.

The other took it, equally cautiously.

"We can't give up bickering altogether, sir" said the second.

"Oh nobody expects you to; two prominent members of the fight against Voldemort, Sirius Black and Severus Snape, have had a gentle rivalry going from when they were eleven" said Darryl "But if either calls for aid, the other is the first to come running, because in their rivalry – which was at times rather bitter – they learned everything about each other, and that each was as a kind of reflection of the other. Children bicker; adults draw strength from a former rivalry and let it show them the paths of similarity that makes them uncomfortably alike at times, but so too then ready to understand each other."

"So if we still don't like each other it's all right so long as we work together for the greater good?" said the first.

"Yes; but please don't use Gellert Grindelwald's phrase; it has too many negative connotations" said Darryl. "It smacks of 'the end justifies the means' which it doesn't; because sometimes the needs of the few or the one DO outweigh the needs of he many. Certainly the RIGHTS of the individual outweigh the needs of the many so long as it is understood that with rights come responsibilities. This is a little deep for the new babes; but if either or both of you want to chat to me informally any time about your problems with each other I'll be glad to listen. And I'm glad that I've fired your imaginations with a goal beyond your rivalry. Very well; everyone is going to be tired after we first get there, so on the second morning we shall convene outside in leisure wear ready to run. This WILL help those of you considering chanting as an option as well; because it increases the lung capacity. It also increases the stamina and enables you to hold spells longer; perhaps the difference between warding off the cruciatus curse long enough to cast a binding charm on an attacker say, and losing half your numbers for failing to delay them, or your own sanity if they choose to hold it on you. The enemy does not play fair; and those who feel that pure blood is the be all and end all are fooling nobody but themselves."

"Please sir, does that mean they don't like people like me who have no wizards in my family?" asked a diminutive new boy.

"That's right son" said Darryl "You're muggleborn; those who think of themselves – erroneously – as of the wizarding aristocracy might designate you 'mudblood'. Some of us were brought up to a blind belief that pure blood is better; and those of us bright enough to accept facts over training wise up and learn that those of other blood – muggleborn, half-blood, goblin, fey, giant or elf blood – are no different to anyone else, in that there are clever ones and stupid, decent people and nasty ones, tolerant or bigoted ones. IS there anyone pure blood here? I don't know the customs in France but I doubt they're entirely different."

"I am" said Pharamond. "Pharamond Duval; old, respected and probably disreputable family; a bit like the English Malfoys. I don't consider myself better than most because I'm pure blooded but because I'm a Duval."

Darryl laughed.

"My friend Gorbrin Malfoy-Tobak says much the same; he's a Malfoy by being a stepchild but he reckons that being a Malfoy is as much a state of mind as anything else. The Malfoys are insufferably arrogant to those they dislike and amazingly egalitarian with those they like, and that has nothing to do with birth or race. There's nothing wrong with being proud of your origins; so long as you accept that others have as much right to be proud of theirs. I tolerate no racism in class or club and I WILL let my disapprobation be known in the English fashion, transfiguration into a woodlouse; as you may let anyone know who is inclined to such. Pharamond, I think you should take this muggleborn lad…." "It's Emilien Perrin sir" said the child

"Emilien Perrin then" said Darryl "Under your wing; you can teach him much about the wizarding world and he can teach you much about muggles that rarely gets taught as part of the much neglected curriculum of muggle studies."

"Will I be your fag like in English School Stories?" asked Emilien of Pharamond. The older boy laughed lazily.

"Oh we don't do that here" he said "But you may run errands for me if you don't get under foot and I shall look over such homework as you do not understand. I fancy learning about YOUR world might be what I need to learn; the professeur did not make the connection lightly I think" he glanced at Darryl.

"Lucius Malfoy is as successful as he is because he DOES understand both worlds – and so knows how risible it is for the more megalomaniac wizards to even think that they could control muggles" said Darryl "Sorry you Belgian twins didn't get a game today; but if you want to join the ECC you'll get others. And a lot more too" he added.

"We think it would be a very good thing to join" said one; his twin nodded.

"And now I believe it must be time for whatever you call afternoon tea" said Darryl.

"It is time for chocolate rolls and coffee sir" said Lucretzia "And that is to keep us going until le diner."

Darryl rolled his eyes.

French cuisine was NOT going to fill the inner man.

He would send a Palais elf for eggs, bacon and sausage the moment he got to the school and enchant himself a preserving cabinet for the same.

And a frying pan. He would definitely need a frying pan.

_*__ for those unfamiliar with French, __please! It isn't 9. It's pronounced Neen. Please also be aware that in French the last letter is often not pronounced, and an initial H is not pronounced either, which I've indicated in the pronunciation of 'Ogwarts but not in such names as Horace. Which is pronounced 'Orass.. And that's all the help you'll get from me, if you want to know more, use Google. And yes, it tickled my sense of humour to have a number in English as the name for an Arithmancy professor. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The south of France was HOT.

Darryl cast surreptitious cooling charms as the flying carriages came into land, turned to Nine Napier, bowed from the waist in his seat and said,

"Madam, I apologise for misunderstanding the purpose of short trousers; to me it means chapped knees and thighs that never get warm. I forgot, of course, the difference in climate. Though even less can I understand how the senior girls can bear stockings; an unnecessary torture I would think!"

"But so much more stylish than the socks a little girl wears!" said Nine, a little mollified "Besides it is custom in France that small boys wear shorts."

"Oh so it is in England" said Darryl "But not big boys of eleven; few English over the age of six would wear shorts save for sport. But then we also encourage our children in independence and maturity. However I may succumb to the local customs and consider the possibility of shorts myself; I have lederhosen such as we wear in the Alps for practical purposes of comfort when climbing. It is hot there also, though not so humid as here." Besides, there was a difference between the longish lederhosen and the abbreviated shorts that were school uniform.

Nine Napier gazed at him in horror at the thought of him in lederhosen.

Horace poked him.

"Behave, bad one" he murmured. Darryl grinned at him. The primness of the wretched woman middle aged before her time bought out the worst in him. WHAT a good job Mimi and the other Belle Marauders were not here!

He knew Mimi could feel him thinking of her and send long passionate thoughts and memories of the kiss they had exchanged when he left her.

Then they were landing and he had to get out, take in the large sprawling chateau that was more a palace than a castle, with extensive grounds that looked to be as ruthlessly manicured as its inmates were expected to be. He had seen that his hurley players had been returned to a state HE considered respectable but Mademoiselle Napier had still raised a horrified eyebrow and had primped girls and tweaked boys before letting them eat their rolls and coffee. And at least Darryl had been familiar with the concept of milky coffee in bowls into which the _pain au chocolat_ was dipped, for being used to continental customs in Austria. Except that Austrians did not muck about with the digestions by living on high carbohydrate, low substance diets like the French.

He went to his room – escorted by an elf – to freshen up and took a quick cold bath. Fortunately he had been warned about the heat and had decided to be moved by vanity as well as comfort and had had made up a number of calf length robes of fine linen – less sticky than silk – embroidered about the neck and hem for weight and hang, and put on a pair of sandals that might be described more as _caligae_ since he found the normal man's sandal very unstylish. He would dress as did the Romans; and he had the legs to carry it off too. A pity he might not get away with ancient Egyptian garb; he thought he would look very dashing in a linen kilt and fancy collar. Of course he would look equally dashing dressed in nothing but a leopard skin, but there were limits. He experimented with and without a belt, and decided that with a belt and the tunic pouched over it a little to lift it to knee level he looked really quite classical and was quite comfortable too with a cool breeze on all his extremities. He resumed an academic gown; it had wide three-quarter sleeves so was not too hot, and strolled down for the diner, what he would call supper in England.

His costume shocked almost everyone and his calves were covertly admired by all the girls and women and a few of the boys too.

xxx

Darryl would be teaching effectively four classes; a taster class to the first two years, those of the third who opted to take chanting as an elective and a voluntary class on Saturday for everyone else who wanted to have a chance to learn the new subject. Those of the fourth might then have a straightforward timetabled class next year to take it alongside their other scheduled ELM exams; those of the fifth and the combined sixth might hope to take it either at the end of this year if they came on far enough, giving those in the fifth the chance to study it to ELF, or else those of the fifth and lower sixth might take it at the same time the current fourth took their exam if they needed the extra year. Those in the upper sixth would either have to work really hard to gain any qualification or else be satisfied with such knowledge as they had gained. Darryl could not be bothered to translate the French classes out of the way in which he thought of them; how typical of the French to start with sixth class through to first class and final year as a means of counting when everyone else in the world numbered their classes from inception to completion, even if that did mean that they started year one being reception class at four years old, or in America, six. At least it was logical.

It may be noted that Darryl had a degree of an Englishman's xenophobia towards the French more than any other peoples in the world.

The first class was a scheduled one on the morrow for those of the third who had elected to take the new subject without having tried it; they might get a shock, though he would try to break the physical exigencies of the subject to them as gently as possible. There were to be just ten in the class, only three of whom were boys; somehow Darryl suspected that the girls saw it as just a bit of gentle singing, and the boys saw it as a soppy bit of gentle singing They would be disabused of this erroneous belief. The first and second had no choice in the matter of a single period of chanting each week; and the older ones had, one hoped, a bit better idea if they were prepared to put in extra curricular time. That would be the challenging class – and the biggest. Twenty had expressed an interest from the combined sixth, eleven from the fifth, the Seconde as they called it, which was more boys than girls and hence presumably well informed; and some fourteen fourth years. Almost fifty. Still, Hogwarts this year was to have an intake of more than fifty pupils; and the core classes were to be taught all at once while they were streamed into upper and lower streams so he could scarcely complain; and Tony Queach had as many at least when Darryl had first taken up chanting as a Saturday voluntary class in those days when he was still an enemy of the blood group and was seeking for the source of their power. And what a well spent Saturday class it had been!

Well he would not see how many of his incipient third years – the Quartième – would join any morning run because they were not to run that first morning; no good expecting them to recover from a journey quickly the way English youths would. Still, he might then meet first the other staff members in the staff room more fully than with the hurried introductions before the first night's welcome feast which turned out to be full enough and tasty enough albeit a little heavy on the sauces. He chatted to those professors he had not yet met; recognising a few from the Symposium. The languid lily of indeterminate gender that was the Transfigurations teacher turned out to be a witch called Elvira Van Diemen; she greeted him with a limp handshake that almost felt damp just from the associations of its almost corpse-like nature. Darryl repressed the urge to spread rumours that she was an inferius; it was rather too childish a thing to do. Amédé Cuiliere, the potions master, looked down his nose and said,

"I understand you've had some of your training at least from Severus Snape; so how does HE rate you as a potioneer?"

Darryl grinned.

"Well, as I'm sure you're aware, although he's not inclined to hand out compliments on a plate he has been known to refer to me AS a potioneer; which is about the best compliment he gives" he said.

Cuiliere nodded.

"Then you are talented" he said "Why then do you teach chanting?"

"Because it was the subject needed for a year before a permanent teacher becomes available" said Darryl "And although I have an 'O' grade at NEWT I do not consider it my best subject; though one learns all the time. I do of course compare myself to Sev's own children and to Sev himself" he added. "Next year in the free school I shall be involved in starting, I shall be teaching Ancient Runes, which IS my best subject and which has boosted my chanting. You've read, of course, the little thing Jade Snape wrote under the name of Nefrita Von Strang about the Bactrian Texts needing a potioneer to unravel them?"

"That was Severus Snape's daughter? It was a masterly piece of work" said Cuiliere, thawing visibly. That Darryl referred so familiarly to the famous Severus Snape was a revelation to him too.

"It was, wasn't it?" said Horace "And a humbling lesson to us all that we should take more account of each others' specialities; and somehow I dare say the disciples of Severus Snape will discuss esoteric connections all the time in THEIR staffroom."

"Well we already have done from before OWL" said Darryl. "Yes, it will be most interesting to be able to continue to do so and share in each other's research."

"And an example to us all who have grown up with the thought that research is to be hoarded and hugged to oneself" rumbled Horace.

"That is you French of course" sneered the man Horace had indicated as Egide Sauvage, the Belgian Professor of Care of Beasts "And the English no better. And their main teacher is that idiot Hagrid."

"Hagrid is no idiot" said Darryl sharply "Not very well educated in his speech perhaps and a little rough around the edges; but he knows his subject backwards."

"He knows nothing of the small fairy kind" scoffed Sauvage.

"Oh he knows enough to teach; it may not be his speciality, but then he has trained most of the eminent dragon handlers in Europe because he IS an expert on dragons" said Darryl "And for that matter on flying horses. Give him the credit for the knowhow and patience to have trained and bred the first documented domesticated thestrals in Europe. He doesn't show well because he likes animals better than people; sometimes I can see his point of view" he added dryly.

"You didn't take the subject in your final two years though, I bet" said Sauvage.

"Well be reasonable; taking more than seven NEWTs is beyond most of us" said Darryl "So I took those I was most interested in. David Fraser, who would have taught me had I taken it further, is a good friend and a fine teacher too, but even he only took six NEWTs and had to make some compromises. He's studied on since he's been in teaching, as I intend to do. And I shall certainly keep up with the Wizarding Wireless Vision programmes made by Orlando Carcano. I want to study Comparative Magic further too, and a working knowledge of Magical Beasts is helpful for that too."

"You are one of those who love learning and will never stop I think" put in the Charms Professor, Charmaine Epeler with a warm smile. "Horace said you may need me as a chaperone?"

"If you can bear to leave your bed at five in the morning I would be very pleased" said Darryl "Upper school girls scare me rigid! I'd like to introduce the English custom of running before school, which increases the stamina to better sustain spells; and for chanting increases the lung capacity which may make the difference between success and failure. But such exercise can hardly be made a compulsory part of the lesson so I thought to run it as a club of self improvement after the English fashion."

"Ah, the club that improved itself so much the pupils involved had the magic at their fingertips to defeat Voldemort I suspect" said Charmaine. "This custom I will gladly embrace for your peace of mind as well as for the girls; and to learn more also."

"Thanks" said Darryl with a brief bow to her.

"It sounds most jolly!" Madam Maxime herself interposed "But a little energetic for me!"

"Oh dear, I hope you won't stretch the poor little things too far so they are tired in class!" put in Amelie Duvall – no relation of Pharamond whose surname had only one 'l' – who was the DADA professor.

"The point of the exercise is to enable them to be LESS tired less quickly" said Darryl dryly "A youth trained in stamina can maintain a shield charm for three times as long and against more formidable spells as a child without the same advantages; this has been proven again and again. Even those children so unfortunate as to only learn the shield charm late in life when they start school and need wand and incantation to cast it."

"But it is a difficult spell!" cried Amelie "Many of the poor little ones never learn to achieve it at all; what are you saying? To cast it without word or wand, is that possible?"

"Amelie, don't be an idiot" said Horace "Did you not accompany the duelling team to Durmstrang when Odessa sought to snare Harry Potter, when Hercule was on the team? And did not the English, even little ones of fifteen, cast wordlessly and wandlessly much of the time?"

"Well yes, but one could not tell then what spells they used; there are many counter-jinxes…."

"Most English use the shield charm as a matter of course as it comes easily" said Darryl "As well it might; most families of any degree of prominence at least teach it to their children the moment they manifest magic at the age of seven. Voldemort taught us the valuable lesson of creative paranoia" he added. "Duelling spells are not looked upon as a sport in England; but as serious means of self defence. You in France, where Odessa never got a great hold, are lucky to have the luxury to treat your DADA classes as an academic exercise. Some of us have passed practicals rather stiffer than any exam board sets and at a younger age too; and if things have been relatively peaceful of late, well those of us brought up to believe the worst wonder where supremacists and their dark magic will arise next. And some of us look at a French organisation called 'The New Sun' which seems to have ideals almost identical to Odessa and would seek to undo all the great work that you of Beauxbatons have put in to increase racial equality with your policies of letting in first half-bred people and your making no distinction between them and pure bred humans, a social advance far beyond anything Agata Bacsó dares to do in Durmstrang even after the overthrow of Odessa if she hopes to keep her school open for having enough pupils."

"She is a hard woman; I cannot think she would want to see goblins educated" said Olympe Maxime.

"Funnily enough, she's found out more about goblins than she would have considered doing for herself – Jade Snape again – and has a greater liberality of view than of yore" said Darryl "She's in favour of the education of what she considers to be exceptional goblins, to be an elite amongst goblins, to help keep the others controlled; which is at least an advance. In time who knows what may happen; but in the meantime I applaud Beauxbatons for returning the debt owed by the wizarding community to the goblins who sheltered and nurtured many wizards and witches through the madness that was the Muggle Revolution by giving them the opportunity to show their mettle. I admit I have the fervour of the converted; I was raised to be a good little racist."

"What changed your mind?" the question was posed by Homère Tisserand, teacher of History and pleased to find an Englishman who knew something of French history.

Darryl gave a rueful grin.

"I fell in love with Mimi Snape, one of Sev's adopted daughters" he said "She's a full blood elf – she has a tall form almost like an animagus form closer to human size – who helped me to examine the reasons and backgrounds for some of my misconceptions and helped me to come to terms with the fact that I actually longed to be friends with the other two cleverest boys in my class – one of whom was Gorbrin Malfoy-Tobak and the other his friend Ming Chang. Racism is futile and rather stupid; but it can be dangerous when inculcated at an early age into those of us who are actually rather clever because we can be dangerous people. I'm extremely glad I had the opportunity to discard the lies and foolishness before I became a fanatical dark wizard. I'm horribly afraid I might have been rather good at it; because unlike so many who use the Dark Arts as a shortcut, a means to impose their will, I only ever saw it as an adjunct to true learning. An evil academic is about the most dangerous being there is in the universe; so I vote we all watch Horace for incipient darkness" and he winked at the Ancient Runes master.

Horace looked approval on him; the lad had brought serious issues into the open and had yet managed to make everyone laugh with a frivolous comment to lighten the mood. He was GOOD.

And just as well someone that good had NOT taken a dark path!

Darryl was on something of a mission for Severus; because there had been trouble in France. Kinat had helped sort out trouble among goblins protesting that more should be done, some of whom were violent hot-heads on their own account, but many of whom were being carefully manipulated by one or more wizards seeking to manipulated uneducated, easily roused goblins into committing acts of violence that would lead to reforms being stopped before they had really begun. Kinat had been fast and successful in his intervention and had managed to teach the French Aurors a few things; but there were sympathisers of those who had been stirring up the goblins, and with Odessa gone there was too a power vacuum in Europe. And Severus suspected that there was funding coming from Germany to help those of rather less than idealistic ideals. Darryl was to sound out the youth of Beauxbatons and see if there were any that might be drawn in to the general fight against racism. And so he planned to do; and if he could raise the general awareness without sounding too much as though he was preaching or proselytising he would do so.

"Nice delivery, Zabini; do you do amateur dramatics?" asked Amédé Cuiliere.

"No, old boy; never had time" said Darryl equably "I suppose that it's just sincerity that adds dramatic effect more than training. One of those odd paradoxes of demagoguery. But I'm not here to be a political rally; I just state my views following a question I was asked."

He really WAS good, thought Horace. And stylish enough – in his arrogantly eccentric way – to get the attention of the French. Presumably Snape thought France was the clear and present danger; well, the lad would have an ally in him, even if many of their colleagues were unlikely or unwilling to perceive and particularly to try to counter any threat.

"Amédé is fond of amateur dramatics" said Horace "I'm sure he was not disparaging your sincerity, Darryl, but admiring your excellent voice and looking for an opening to suggest you might wish to participate in any productions with which he is involved."

That ought to cover the supercilious old fool's general attempts to interfere for the sake of it.

Darryl regarded Cuiliere.

"Well I can't say I've done any acting but if you need a makeweight I'm willing enough to give anything a go once" he said "So long as I don't get precipitated into anything complex like 'Othello' for my looks. I'm good at learning poetry and stuff; it's a favourite discipline measure at Hogwarts as at Prince Peak and I've never claimed to be a model pupil. Learning lines that follow proper cues ought not to pose a problem."

"Hmph, well, I shall see" said Amédé Cuiliere who had never considered such an invitation. The boy had a beautiful voice however; it would be a delight to hear him deliver lines. Amédé was inclined to look down on those he did not consider his intellectual equal, and to sneer and test; but his was not a fault of vanity in a hobby that he loved, and he would rather see a part acted well, better than he could do it, than take the part himself however good it might be. And when he accepted a man as his equal he could be perfectly amiable. Darryl, as it happened, did not mind his manner; he knew Severus well enough to know that he hid behind a façade of sneering sarcasm when he felt threatened. As he had done himself once, before rescued from it by Mimi. He knew that the Potions master had not made the comment either to invite him to act or to deliberately show up his intentions to the others; but had simply seen through his careful crafting of stepping back from the subject and wanted him to know that it had been seen through; as an academic exercise. Which in some respects made Amédé a more dangerous person since he had NO axe to grind save that of his own proof of ability. Still, Darryl felt quite equal to handling Amédé even without the kindly intervention of Horace; because for all his supercilious air, Darryl could plainly see that Amédé was not in Severus Snape's league nor even in his own. Horace was another matter; but Horace seemed at least to be an ally.

xxx

Darryl recognised two of the children in his class as two who had been involved in the hurley at the lodge; a young boy with glasses and the oldest of the fey girls, her greenish hair neatly plaited and held with uniform blue ribbons that somehow managed to clash with the green. They all rose dutifully for him.

"Please take your seats" said Darryl "You will stand presently to begin the first practical work for this class; because I have to warn you, chanting is, at least until you get used to it, physically very demanding. Those who are fit have a great advantage; especially since the ELM-equivalent includes an hour-long chant. Not all chants are so long; some can be considerably longer. Yes, mademoiselle? And too what is your name?" as a girl put up her hand.

"Please Professor I am Ophélie Pomfret; I wanted to know what please is the longest chant you have done?"

"I personally? Eight hours" said Darryl "Part of a twelve hour chant in which almost nobody had to chant more than eight hours – the best of us – with backup chanters chanting four. It was a ritual to limit the power of such fey as may be described as dark creatures in breaking a curse imposed long ago that fed them power. Ah, Mlle Lafée has some knowledge; you felt it in your blood?"

"Yes sir; though only as an echo" said Amelie Lafée. "With breaks of course to rest?"

"Oh no, Mlle Lafée, no breaks" said Darryl "Eight hours continual chanting – we had helper elves to squirt honeyed water into our mouths between each repetition of the chant – a horrid one to get the tongue round, in Gaelic, which, as I understand from a native Frenchman, is like speaking Breton with a mouthful of nails whilst gargling. No breaks for anything; we could bath afterwards. To stop was to break the chant, to break the chant was to fail. It was a powerful curse and required powerful ritual to break; but it is broken now across Europe to almost as far as the Ural Mountains."

"Eeeuw" said Ophélie, who was assimilating the implications.

"Vain as I am, there are things I believe in more than personal comfort or appearance" said Darryl "And we made use of certain clever muggle devices; one to contain any er, output; and another that fed liquid to us directly so we did not dehydrate. Muggles have some very clever ideas through having to overcome problems without the usually quick fix of magic."

"Madame Lafayette is right then that muggles are not stupid at all?" asked one of the boys.

"Muggles, like wizards, can be incredibly clever through to phenomenally stupid" said Darryl "Their intellect works in exactly the same way ours does. It is no different. It is merely as though we can see a world that they have not seen for so long that they do not even believe in it. As though we have an extra sense; which in a way we do. Otherwise they are identical. But we are not here to discuss muggles; but to address chanting. And the first thing you will need to do to learn to chant is to learn to breathe. It will hurt; you will be exercising muscles you did not know you had. As you practise it will become second nature and will stop hurting. Nothing gained without some pain however; so if you will rise I shall demonstrate what I am looking for and leave you breathing as I come round to listen. Only YOU, however, know if you are putting in the effort I demand; only YOU can decide whether to take this seriously and work through the pain and rejoice in a couple of weeks when my classes cause you no more pain. Stand!"

He explained how to breathe from the chest, using the diaphragm to pull the air in for a complete lungful; and made them expel each breath on the note 'Fah' held as long as they could to expel all the air in their lungs.

"This then shall be your homework" he said "To do this every night and morning, five repetitions. When you can take an effortless lungful and hold a note for more than ten seconds you'll be getting somewhere."

"Please sir, will you show us how long you can hold a note?" asked another of the girls.

"All right" said Darryl "To show you it can be done" and he flooded his lungs and sang the last verse of the Uriah Heep song 'Gypsy Queen' culminating in the last line rarely sung for its challenges; "I love my gypsyyyyyyyyy queeeeen" holding the final note of 'gypsy' for the long seventeen seconds and with barely a breath into the held note of 'queen'.

The class applauded. Darryl had a good voice and the whole class found they had been holding their breaths – and had difficulty in holding so long a breath, let alone pumping out a long note at what was considerable volume.

The door burst open and Mlle Amelie Duvall burst in.

"Professeur Zabini are you all right?" she asked, her bun escaping from its pins rather like the White Queen, though Darryl.

"Perfectly, Madame Duvall" said Darryl "Merely demonstrating techniques. I suppose from a classroom or so away the result might be indistinguishable from a banshee, or Katti Krächzen or some other such dark creature."

His class hid giggles. The German singer was as well known on the continent as Celestina Warbeck with as mixed a reception.

"I admire Katti Krächzen" said Amelie Duvall coldly. It was hard to believe that she was younger than Severus; she was prematurely middle aged. Or Severus was eternally boyish.

Darryl bit off the comment that started to flow to his tongue that she was required, as teacher of DADA to take an interest in Dark Creatures and smiled fatuously instead.

He overheard the comment muttered by one of the boys to the one who had joined the hurley.

"Y'know, Sebastian I'd PAY to listen to Professor Zabini sing!"

"Me too" was the quiet reply.

Darryl waited until Mlle Duvall had retreated, glaring at the third as she went, and said,

"You don't actually have to pay to hear me sing because I shall probably be doing a lot of singing by way of demonstration; I enjoy it. It is NOT however necessary to even be able to hold a tune in a sack providing that you have a sense of rhythm; later in the course you might learn something of drumming in lieu or as an addition to chanting; even as Professor Snape did, the only one of us required to stay upright and chanting for the whole twelve hours of the chant. He interspersed each repetition of the chant with a beat on a drum called a bodhran that had a similar magical pattern. Chanting sets up magical patterns in the same way as any incantation does; the beauty of a chant is that one might either build upon and reiterate that incantation or change it subtly as one goes along to deal with each layer of, say, a recalcitrant curse. Oh and by the by, you can hear the beat if you listen to the Broomstick Boys' latest album, 'Freedom' which uses a version of the chant we used and the album sleeve gives the actual words. They were a part of the twelve hour chant; and their music contains magic. You will learn during this course that intent and appropriate rhythm, line length and wording are all important but that even extant popular songs or nursery rhymes may be borrowed and used – IF you know how to manipulate and use them. I believe the bell is – yes, has gone; don't forget your breathing. If you do, next time WILL hurt. Dismissed!"

It had gone well; and he retired to the staff room.

"Whatever were you singing?" asked Mademoiselle Duvall.

"It's a muggle song that demonstrates a note held long and loud" said Darryl "It's a better exemplar than an actual chant until the kids know a bit more. Besides, rock music appeals to the age-group. And moreover I like it" he added "And that has a great deal of bearing on the success of a chant. It's a question so often of using Assimilative Correlation by Association and that works so much better if allied with Assimilative Correlation by Cultural Familiarity. Or in the case of Lilith Snape, Assimilative Correlation by Jiggery Pokery for whom the most tenuous links work so long as they appeal to her twelve-year-old imagination. She's a way better chanter than I shall ever be so I just bow to her superior manipulation of raw magic; and assuming she DOES manage to circumvent the age line next year I doubt anyone else will have a cat's chance in Hell in the Triwizard."

"Preposterous!" said MlleDuvall "Surely Professor Fraser will not permit it?"

"Oh I doubt David will forbid her outright" said Darryl "Like the rest of us, he's curious to know if she can come up with a way round the age line. I think she will; I'll be putting several galleons on it actually. She IS the granddaughter of Voldemort after all."

"So Snape WAS his son?" gasped Duvall. Darryl gave a scornful laugh.

"No of course not!" he said "Krait Malfoy Snape is Tom Marvolo Riddle's daughter on an illegitimate Malfoy girl. Which was why she wanted to plot against her father; as well as his other iniquities he had abandoned her mother cruelly to die in childbed and leave Krait to be brought up in a muggle orphanage very nearly as dire as a German Kinderhaus for Goblins. As a teacher of DADA you ought to know that" he added censoriously. Let this ruddy woman say anything that sounded as though she meant it as a criticism of dad Severus!

"Oh" said Duvall, rather inadequately. There was not a lot else she could say.

xxx

Darryl was approached after school by the majority of the chanting class of the third – he MUST remember that they were the Quartième – and a selection of others with the request that he sing the whole song, please nicely.

Darryl laughed, and went to fetch his guitar.

The group listened to him in awe at his voice control; and the small first year watched his rapidly moving fingers on the guitar in admiration. He then played them the Broomstick Boys' 'Turning'; and then dismissed them firmly to do their homework. Keeping a selection of children – and some older ones for that matter – from their work would NOT endear him to the rest of the staff.

However it was interesting to see that the core of his fans were those who had played hurley; and had evidently brought friends along when Sebastian and Amelie Lafée had suggested bringing them in too; whose idea it almost had to be.

xxx

And it was also interesting next morning to see that the initial fourteen or so who had come to play hurley had swelled in numbers to join him – yawning and wishing that had not been importuned by the more enthusiastic ones in some cases – to run according to the English fashion. Darryl congratulated the small muggle boy, Emilien Perrin, who was in combats and a t-shirt; eminently sensible clothes for running in and easily laundered when they got sweaty as they would. He suggested similar to the others, or at least singlets and shorts.

"We'll run over a few breathing exercises first; the er Quartième are ahead of you here" he said "Get this lovely fresh cool early morning air deep into the lungs to dispel sleep and get you ready to tackle anything."

He was not so strenuous with them as with a chanting class; time enough for that another time.

"Where will we run?" asked Pharamond.

"That's something I looked into yesterday while I let the rest of you sleep in" said Darryl "I've picked an easy run for this morning, covering just a mile; and on soft turf that will feel easy under the feet. There are also a couple of places to take short cuts back to the school if anyone runs out of steam early. Some of you may be fitter than others; anyone used to exercise?"

"I think you should be aware sir, that Eduard Batonnoir here has ear problems" said one of the rivals – Darryl thought it was Marc Guiscard.

"Well I'm glad you brought it to my attention" said Darryl "What sort of problems, Eduard?"

"I've always been prone to ear infections and I'm partly deaf in one ear" said Eduard "They said it was a weakness that medical transfigurations couldn't fix."

Darryl cast the Revellaspell on the boy's ear; checked the other; and turned to the group.

"Perhaps you'll excuse me a moment while I sort Eduard's ear out" he said "A simple chant will sort it; which should show those of you who have opted for it the sort of things that are possible. Eduard has a chemical imbalance in his ears that produces too much wax in the wrong places; a subtle thing indeed for a transfiguration to sort out – though it's possible – but easy to do by persuading the ear to behave differently with a chant."

He based a chant that was mostly nonsense on the Wenlock Series, as he explained that the geometry of the inner ear was based on this series of numbers as many things in nature were. He also pointed out that for the highest levels of chanting Arithmancy was vital. Pharamond and the two boys he had brought along pulled long faces and Pharamond muttered that they had better get the text books and study on their own time.

The chant had Eduard's hand flying to his ear which burned red as though slapped; then his eyes widened as Darryl came to the end of his chant.

"Oh SIR! There's no pain; I guess I'd forgotten what it was LIKE not to be in pain!"

"Chanting; it's good" said Darryl.

"Please sir, some of us didn't sign up for the voluntary class; would you take extras?" asked one of his hurley players, the small boy with the Austrian accent.

"I certainly will" said Darryl "Anyone who was sufficiently moved to change their mind and take up chanting is welcome to do so. So long as you'll put in the hard work; because the breathing we did this morning is NOTHING on what I shall make you do for real work."

"I guess we can work as hard as anyone" said the boy stoutly.

They still had time for the run; but Darryl explained that with the extra chant there would be no time for any extras this morning unless anyone had something urgent they needed to raise when he would, personally, make time.

There was not; and Darryl was pleased that they went off chattering happily and excitedly and vowing to get up on the morrow!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"I notice I haven't been scheduled on my timetable to sit a lunchtime prep class" said Darryl to Olympe Maxime "I don't mind doing so you know."

"Lunchtime – déjeuner – prep? I do not understand" said Olympe "We have no prep in that time."

"Then I think my timetable must have some error in it" said Darryl "There is a full two hours shown between the end of morning school and the beginning of the afternoon."

"Why yes; that is the mealtime. The pupils must have time to eat, digest, and rest before going back to work, naturally" said Madame Maxime.

Darryl blinked. "Two hours?" he said in astonishment "And I thought we had a long break at Prince Peak with a lunch-hour of the full hour. It's only three quarters of an hour at Hogwarts; ample time to scramble down food and go to the loo and have a quick knock around with a quaffle to loosen up for the afternoon."

Olympe Maxime gave a little shriek.

"Such horrid terms and ways of looking at it! To scramble down food? What a concept! And playing with a quaffle on a full stomach? Surely your children are ill from such?"

"Lord no" said Darryl "Hogwarts doesn't take delicate kids who can't cope with school life; and Prince Peak doesn't encourage its delicate kids to feel too different. A decent knock around with a quaffle for ten minutes does wonders for the digestion."

The French staff were staring at him in horrified consternation.

"These English are barbarians!" declared Nine Napier.

Darryl took himself off for a run instead after lunch, having plenty of time for a decent exploration of the forest – it was too hot to run where there was no cover – and a leisurely shower afterwards. The French children went to bed at a ridiculously early hour too it seemed; Darryl was a convert to Severus' asseveration that there should be compulsory leisure time and plenty of sleep for growing bodies but he would swear that the French took that to extremes; no wonder they did not perform so well academically when they did so very little work! School started earlier – at eight, not at nine – but lunch ran from eleven thirty to one thirty and only two periods then after the lunch break not the three he was accustomed to, school being out an hour early at three o'clock. Which, for the hour earlier start, would be fine; only there was an extra hour at lunch. The first two lessons were of fifty minutes duration each with a ten minute break before the next pair of fifty minute lessons; which was inefficient because so long a lesson did not promote learning. It would have been more efficient to have had forty minute lessons – the optimal time – and fit in an extra single lesson for it. Still, it was none of his business; if the French did not care to do things efficiently he would not make any bones about it. It was only for a year.

Xxx

His second class were the Sixième, the first years; five of whom had already turned up to the ECC and who were looking very keen when he entered.

He motioned the class to sit as he had with the third, with the explanation that they would be working hard a little later.

His lecture was a reprise of that to the third; they were all beginners after all and must master some basics before they could get on. Two of the girls seemed to think a lot of themselves and were trying to see how good they could look; which Darryl ignored. Divas he knew all too much about, having been in the thick of Ravenclaw loveys, and being accused of the nastiness that had been the work of Amos Leroy. Darryl disliked those who plainly considered themselves much better than the rest and firmly congratulated Melisande Georges, one who had turned up for the ECC, for her musical ability since the child was plainly enjoying herself and not trying to give herself airs as the others were.

"I have done well also!" said one of them.

"Mademoiselle" said Darryl "I had planned to speak to you afterwards to correct your faults in a less embarrassing fashion. However, you are NOT doing well. You and the Mademoiselle with black hair are bellowing like cows on heat without concern for your throats nor any notice given to using your voices properly. As of the moment that makes you louder than the rest who still learn to control; but volume is not everything. And IF YOU WANT VOLUME THEN IT COMES BETTER WITH ABSOLUTE BREATH CONTROL AND NOT WITH RIPPING HALF YOUR THROAT OUT" he permitted his voice to carry with volume and clarity. "You will one day learn that some chants require the voice to drop to the quietest and lowest whilst still being audible, or to drop gradually in a controlled way and vanish from sound at the precisely correct moment. Shouting does not a chanter make. Do not presume to judge your own performance since none of you have any ability nor yardstick against which to measure it. Whichever twin that one is did quite well" he pointed at one of them "Auberon Lafée you are a little TOO quiet; Emilien you are trying too hard, loosen up. You, the girl at the back, you will I think do well when you have a little more confidence. Very well; these things require practise" he went on and set them their practise as homework. None of this lot asked him how long he could hold a note for; but then they had perceived something of that when he had bellowed at the self opinionated girl and were perhaps a little shell shocked by it and a little fearful of him.

Which would do them no harm.

xxx

It was a couple of days before Darryl taught the second; two of them were in the ECC already and most of the rest looked largely turgid. The girl who giggled every time he spoke about using the chest was an irritation.

"Fraulein – Mademoiselle I mean" said Darryl who was too used to Prince Peak having a more Germanic than French speaking population "Pray share with me the joke that you find so thoroughly funny since so far as I am aware I have not suddenly become a comedian overnight. Yet you are consumed with mirth over my serious attempts to teach you; why might this be?"

The girl lost herself in several half sentences blushing furiously.

"I find myself no further enlightened as to the comedy value of curse breaking and the like" said Darryl in his best Severus voice "And if it is that you are so puerile as to find internal body parts funny perhaps I should cast the entrail expelling curse on you to cure you of such aberrant thoughts. Go and stand outside the classroom with your hands on your head; I will not have your foolishness disrupting my class. You will later write me fifty times 'I should not waste the time of the professors for which my parents are paying' and unless you can behave better next time you are excluded. Get out."

She got, sobbing.

Well that was an improvement on titters anyway.

The rest of the class looked on him uncertainly.

"We've wasted enough time; let's get on or you'll be behind the Sixième" said Darryl.

They obediently stood and got on.

Darryl permitted them to rest as he explained their homework; and one boy put his hand up.

"Yes, lad, sing out your name and ask away" said Darryl.

"I'm Kai Säilä" said the boy "I'm from Finland; will our tradition of naming magic be of use in chanting?"

"Good lad" said Darryl approvingly "Naming Magic can be brought to any branch of magic to enhance it and in chanting it may be particularly efficacious. I doubt it will be much on the curriculum as your permanent teacher from next year has not attended a school that teaches it as a matter of course but I'm happy to set aside time to take you further with it in relation to chanting should you so wish."

"Thank you sir" said Kai.

"You should join the ECC too" whispered the half goblin boy who had first joined in the hurley "It's brilliant." He was one of two part goblins in this class; another boy had less goblin blood but Darryl knew enough to recognise it.

The bell went at that moment and Darryl dismissed the class.

Now the only new class he would have to teach would be the Saturday one.

And Pharamond came to see him on Friday evening.

"The members of the ECC wanted to know if it continues over the weekend so I said I'd ask sir" he said.

"The only time it doesn't run is when the principal members are sleeping off a big ritual" said Darryl "I expect the third – the Quartième I mean – have mentioned the twelve hour chant; nobody felt like rising early after that, I can tell you! It's not compulsory; those who like their weekend lie-ins will merely find it harder going on the Monday, and will have less benefit of it. I think that at least half of those I know who belong have skipped the odd day here and there; and not all kids continue the morning runs in the holidays. But the choices are personal."

Pharamond grinned.

"I suspect you'll have numbers down at the weekend" he said "At least until some of us steam away from them in style. Did the chant have intended side effects to house elves?"

Darryl looked him in the eye.

"The chant was all about removing the compulsion to self punish from house elves" he said "Which we had always intended to do; but it has the side effect of diminishing the darker of the fey who can feed on the distress of their enslaved cousins the way dementors feed on negative emotion."

"But what was the purpose? Most people don't expect their elves to punish themselves you know" Pharamond was puzzled.

"YOU might not" said Darryl fiercely "But have you ever asked any of your family elves whether they have or not? When you haven't been around to see? Because for failing the family in any way, intentionally or otherwise all elves are cursed to this obnoxious curse, even those who have been freed, for as much as thinking faintly rebellious thoughts. Ever resented a teacher for handing out punishment or too much homework? Consider then if that resentment, mild as it might be, meant you had, as though under the imperious curse, to bang your head against the wall or burn yourself, iron your hands, lay your fingers on a railway track – I've come across all of those. You won't stop an elf with the curse intact from self punishing unless the family gives a direct order NOT to do so; when there is severe mental anguish and conflict in the poor little creatures. I'd like to see an end of slavery but I know most elves could not cope with it. And there are too enough who DO like their elves punishing themselves that bring the rest of humankind into disrepute; who would want to kill me if they knew I had a hand in removing some level of their control over their slaves and frankly, those are the sort I'd like as my enemies. You are naïve."

"Well it's the first time anyone has levelled THAT accusation at me sir; but under the circumstances perhaps you are correct. I shall have to ask my family elves about the matter. I – I did not know the compulsion was so strong. I would say our elves are….more joyous, cheery about their work. A real man does not need to be cruel to underlings."

"No Pharamond; and there you have it in a nutshell. Those who must needs be cruel are NOT real men. They are diminished, small minded, insecure, who feel a need to put others down, the weaker the better, to make themselves feel greater. It's the basis for most dark wizards. A deep seated insecurity. Tom Marvolo Riddle, otherwise known as Voldemort, felt very deeply that he had been reared in a muggle orphanage and had a muggle father. I do not say necessarily that Gellert Grindelwald was of the same stamp; I think he had grand, well-meaning ideas and was seduced to the dark path by taking short cuts of dark magic believing that the ends justified the means. His grandson was a twerp; and I should know. I've been involved in opposing his futile attempts against the English schools."

"Is there anything personal in your campaign to free elves sir?" asked Pharamond "I do not ask in the spirit of insolence" he added hastily.

"Come in and have coffee" said Darryl "To you and selected other older ones I will be more forthcoming about myself because I shall hope to have deputies in whose hands I may leave the ECC after this year. The teacher who will follow me will join but she will need help with the running of it. She is a fine chanter but lacks self confidence; I tell you this in confidence of course because I read in you much that I like and trust. See the photo on my desk? That's my fiancée. Her name is Mimi Snape because she is the adopted daughter of Severus Snape and she is a full blood elf. She wears that taller form for convenience, indeed before the various curses were laid on them it is closer to the true form of the original elves. She taught me not to be a racist as I had been reared to be, the negative feelings reiterated by associating the servants with having seen my father murdered when I was an infant; as they took me away from the scene they were in my mind connected with all things bad. Mimi is clever and good and beautiful and shrewd and she pulled my head apart and put me back together. And until the chanting team had covered England, which they did some years ago, she and her equally free mother, uncle and grandparents had yet the urge to self punish if they displeased the boss – Severus Snape – or even, in the child Mimi, her daddy when Severus adopted her and accepted her mother as his mistress. And I am told that Sirri lacked self confidence until that curse was broken, which as she gently but firmly bosses Severus and his wife and his other mistress shows the difference it can make."

"He has two mistresses living in with his wife? He must be quite a man!" Pharamond was impressed.

"He is" said Darryl. "So, yes it IS personal; but it's also due to a vow made by Harry Potter and his friends when Harry first found out about elven slavery that he would do all he could to help. He and his friends were part of a – well, a brotherhood is a better term than a club, the core of the MSHG. Which has passed on down the school – indeed schools, it's in Prince Peak and even Durmstrang now, and the school Severus' daughter Jade started; which vows to do as much as it can for justice to all. I became an honorary member. And I'm talking to you so frankly because there's only about three years between us and you have the training in self discipline I think not to take advantage of that in class and to know when to be familiar and when to be a schoolboy to my professor."

Pharamond nodded.

"I see" he said. "I'd reckon you find few of the staff who have the sort of drive and – and élan that you have; M. Deveraux perhaps, M. Tisserand almost certainly and perhaps Mme Epeler who does at least run with us. But you are still so very English and – I do not quite know how to put it."

"Restless?" said Darryl "I find two-hour lunches irksome and you are all pampered beyond belief."

"That's lowering" said Pharamond. "Those of us who want to get further and faster with chanting; would it then be in order to fit in classes in some of the dinner hours?"

"If you can tear yourselves away from the post prandial exhaustion" said Darryl. "Find out who else is willing and we shall do Monday, Wednesdays and Fridays unless anyone has say music practice. I think perhaps more half-hour lessons are better than one or two longer ones and still give you time to prepare your books for the afternoons. From twelve forty-five to thirteen fifteen seems suitable, a break then before your next class."

Darryl was quite comfortable with the twenty-four hour clock as it was used at Prince Peak.

"Thank you sir; that sounds excellent" said Pharamond "It will mostly be older ones so you won't have to worry about us being able to settle down quickly. You make excellent coffee; in the Austrian style."

"I've been at school in Austria for two years; it rubs off" said Darryl. "You're musical aren't you? I saw you understanding the nuances of what I was singing."

"Yes, I play the fiddle" said Pharamond "why?"

"If your father would pay for it, a year at Prince Peak would build on what you learn from chanting and add a musical twist to your repertoire" said Darryl "I'm not good enough; I know some of the theory and I read music and I sing quite well but I'm not truly musical. Severus is, though he's self taught; and he has a dedicated teacher for music in magic."

Pharamond's face glowed.

"Now THAT sounds really something!" he said, his green eyes gleaming. "Does he have many daughters and are they as pretty as your lovely lady?"

Darryl laughed.

"Quite a number; adopted and his own" he said "The oldest three are married; then there's Mimi; Silvina is firmly attached to Seagh because he's only her brother by adoption and she adopted quite late; Lilith picked hers when she was about nine – which is Lilith all over – and the rest aren't up at school yet. Sorry!"

Pharamond laughed.

"Oh well, it was worth a thought" he said. "If you are teaching us to break curses, will you also give us a basic training in DADA? I'm afraid it was rather boring here."

"That is a shame" said Darryl "You should get a nice overview too in the ECC where I'll be ruthlessly training all of you to be able to take care of yourselves; and following up any personal knowledge anyone wants. How's it working out with that kid Emilien?"

"He's a nice kid" said Pharamond "And he's conscientiously trying to teach me what something called 'the internet' is."

"Good; it'll stand you in good stead" said Darryl "And if he confuses you come and ask me; I can navigate the web without too much trouble now and I've a fair appreciation of the capabilities of muggle technology."

"Reckon you'll teach us more about muggle studies and the dark arts as well as sundry other stuff than our proper teachers have" said Pharamond. "We're laughed at by the other schools, aren't we?"

Darryl pulled a face.

"Let's just say I've heard a few Beauxbatons jokes in my time" he said. "The attitude is rather lackadaisical."

"Then what we need to do with the ECC is institute the English custom of being able to, er, hustle" said Pharamond "And then if we learn that well from you, those of us who long to enter the Triwizard next year stand a chance of not looking too much of fools."

"I'd put in some extra time too brushing up Arithmancy, Geomantic symbols, potions and runes" said Darryl "Though I have no idea who's setting each task. If you're lucky, Beauxbatons will set one and Hellibores another, leaving only one task that might be beyond what you're taught – oh shit, that was tactless, sorry."

"True though" said Pharamond. "I'd rather be here than Durmstrang; and my family has always been to Beauxbatons so there would have been no question of going to Prince Peak even if was actually going as a school recognised for academic excellence then which it wasn't. Madam Maxime is a really good person, only it's a little trying to be an academic laughing stock."

"Well you already know the solution" said Darryl "Learn to hustle. And I'll put in some coaching in Arithmancy for you if you like."

"Rather; I never even took it to ELM. Madam Napier and I don't get on" said Pharamond.

"Now I wonder why not?" said Darryl with heavy irony. "Come to me when you've spare time and all your prep is done; I won't teach you extra if you skimp. You may call me Darryl out of school so long as none of the younger ones hear you, which is the custom for all professors in the MSHG or ECC in other schools but I have doubts about the self discipline here. I'll answer to Darryl for my weekday accelerator class too; a good environment speeds learning. Who's it likely to be?"

Pharamond counted on his fingers.

"My friend Abelard and me; probably Jean-Luc Bonheur – you mustn't mind his attitude, he doesn't mean to be cheeky but he's a bit forthright, we tease him and say he should be English" he gave a half grin.

"I don't mind forthright" said Darryl. "What about that quiet girl, what was she called, Medé? She could do with being extricated from the giggling one."

"Oh Hauvoise is the silliest!" said Pharamond "I think Medé would like to work hard at it. Also Salomé d'Hautbois; she might like a year at Prince Peak too; I'll suggest it to her. Among the uppers I should think only Trudi Paganus – she's Swiss – is likely to take it seriously, I think the rest don't have much of an idea. Will you take those of the fifth?"

"If they're serious about it, yes" said Darryl. "The boy with the ear?"

"Yes; and probably the rivals" said Pharamond. "Marc and Stephan have needed something like this to make them realise how alike they are; better than whacking their heads together. And they both like Eduard, the boy with the ear, so they'll be impressed enough to work. Is it okay for fifths to use your first name?"

"If they can operate under normal rules at other times; and the three you name struck me as sensible lads ready to work hard and use their brains" said Darryl. "What I shall do is to run the voluntary class tomorrow and announce that I'll run the extra classes for those who want to get ahead. You'll all be in pain when I suggest it because of the breathing exercises so I should only get the dedicated. Then after that I'll run two classes on Saturday, the one for the fourth year - er, troisieme – and the also-rans who just want to learn a little nice chanting; and follow that with the one for the weekday students. I'm prepared to bust a gut for those who'll really try but I rather fancy I might get some drop off when some people find how hard it is."

"Half the girls will be there to ogle you anyhow" said Pharamond cynically "Don't take this the wrong way, or in any wise assume that I feel this personally, but I think most of the girls are going to consider you love's sweet dream."

"It's why I have my chastity belt of knarl skin on" said Darryl gravely. Pharamond stared, then laughed.

"You're an awfully good sort sir" he said.

"I've had an awfully good mentor in Severus Snape" said Darryl. "Hop along and tell the poor little precious poppets that I do expect those who are serious to turn out at an early hour even at weekends but it's not compulsory if they want to be feeble."

"Put like THAT I should think you might get a few more" said Pharamond.

"That was the general idea" said Darryl.

xxx

There were diminished numbers on the Saturday run; Charmaine Epeler was one of those who did not turn out and Darryl groaned slightly that he had not checked with the Charms Mistress that they would go out also on Saturday and Sunday when she had agreed to come as a chaperone for him. He clicked his fingers and an elf appeared.

"How may Pepi help the Professor?" he squeaked.

"Would you ask the most respected female elf – unless she is aged, weak or infirm in which case the NEXT most respected female elf – to join the group that runs on Saturday and Sunday mornings as my chaperone" said Darryl. "If one of the girls is hurt I can't really lay hands on her without a female to assist."

"Of course, professor!" The elf disappeared and presently a middle-aged female elf arrived.

"Fifi will be the professor's chaperone!" she squeaked.

"Thank you Fifi" said Darryl "You need not run of course but can apparate from point to point as we run. And I'd be glad if you stayed afterwards too until we dismiss to save my embarrassment from hhrmm, some of the older girls."

"Yes Master Darryl; some is no better than they ought to be" said Fifi "Master Darryl had a photo of a part elf girl in his room."

"My fiancée, free elf Mimi Snape" said Darryl "Whose family has been respectably free – her grandparents are liveried servants, and her uncle runs a hotel – for many years. She was raised free by her adopted father."

Fifi's ears went up.

"It is true then that English elveses does not think it shameful to be free?"

"On the contrary; a free elf who works hard is considered very respectable" said Darryl. It was not true for all dyed-in-the-wool slaves to feel that way; but times WERE changing.

"Master Darryl is very open minded" squeaked Fifi.

Darryl was not sure whether that was a tone of approval or one of disapproval; he decided to nod curtly and gather together his straggling band of runners.

"What's the elf here for?" demanded one of the first years. She had been brought along by her brother who was, Darryl thought, in the fourth year, who had been coming for several days.

"A rather rude way of asking about the presence of a member of staff, young lady" said Darryl "She's here to protect me from any hordes of wild women in the forest who might have designs upon my virginity."

The girl stared uncomprehendingly.

"She's here so none of the older girls can say he laid improper hands on him because she's an adult female you silly girl" said her brother crossly. "Because Professor Zabini doesn't trust some of them not to try to make eyes at him and then tell lies when he laughs at them for being daft."

"Succinct and tactless but essentially correct" said Darryl. "Come!"

They ran.

"Viridian D'Aubert takes his time to decide if he trusts someone" said Pharamond quietly "He's all right; a bit self sufficient but he IS an artist. I don't know his sister."

"I'm not sure that she's here willingly" said Darryl.

"Oh I don't know; she might only be eleven but she seems to be making eyes at you" said Pharamond.

Vivienne D'Aubert was certainly able to keep up; indeed she taunted the more fragile Melisande Georges who was blowing somewhat.

Fifi ticked her off before Darryl could; and the little girl whipped out her wand and cast a series of stinging hexes into the elf.

Darryl disarmed her wordlessly and wandlessly and in a stride was there to box her ear hard.

"You NASTY little girl!" he roared. "Attacking a staff member for reproving you? You are disgusting!"

Vivienne goggled.

"But she's only an ELF" she said.

Darryl boxed the other ear.

"You low little piece of dung" he said in a low, concentrated voice that he had no idea he copied from Severus. "ONLY an elf? Well who do you think makes sure you have all you need to eat, your clothes washed and so on? Without the elves you'd have to shift a lot more for yourself think on! And no LADY ever attacks another being; we shall return to the school and you may consider yourself out of the ECC because I don't ever want to see more of you than is necessary."

"I'll tell that you HIT me!" cried Vivienne.

"Do; and I'll explain why" said Darryl cordially "Because I don't think you'll find the headmistress terribly sympathetic to a little deatheater-type. And if she prefers to lose a chanting teacher and keep a thoroughgoing brat, I shan't want to continue to work here."

"I – I can get my daddy to stop you getting work ANYWHERE if you don't apologise!" cried Vivienne.

Darryl laughed.

"I teach here as a personal favour to Madam Maxime, little girl; I could BUY your father's property many times over. I don't need to work anyway; and besides from next year I shall be teaching in a school I am helping to found and finance. Because I shall be teaching with my wife and our friends in the slums of Munich where I shall be teaching an infinitely better class of student that you, young lady. And any more cheek out of you and I shall stretch a point about not wanting to see anything more of you and you will be in detention every evening from now until the end of term!"

"Sorry" said the girl's brother, falling into step with Darryl as they ran back "I hoped the club might knock her corners off; she's always been…. Nasty."

Darryl looked at him through narrowed eyes.

"You might want to think whether the gift of a book – or other toy – may have started it" he said "Something cursed to make a child into a little monster. And go looking in the holidays; only BE CAREFUL. You are NOT too old to feel the seductive attraction such items may have; at least if my friend Victor and his little brother's experiences are anything to go by; Victor resisted it and I'm sure you can; and as Pharamond tells me you are an artist you might use your artist's eye to draw every book and plaything your sister has. If she is cruel and nasty as the result of a curse it is not wholly her fault."

"I shall sir; but – but it was a difficult birth and our mother was ill for a long time; Vivienne has been much indulged. I hoped school might undo the damage. And she said you were a romantic figure so I hoped that the club might help too."

Darryl pulled a face.

"One can hope school may do something; but I fear it may be too late" he said. "I'm not having one who uses blatant cruelty in the club; especially as Fifi is doing me a favour coming along. Is that why you're rather closed in because she's daddy's little princess?"

"You know? Yes, that's about the size of it. What Vivi wants she gets; even if it's mine" said Viridian bitterly.

"As you're an artist, why don't you ask to go to Prince Peak for at least your last two years?" said Darryl "And escape her? They have Art qualifications there; in fact you might want to ask if you can transfer to do your ELMs there as OWLs so you can study Art to OWL. Severus is flexible; if you've only just found out about it he'd take you say at Yule if you didn't want to fill a whole syllabus in a year."

Viridian's eyes blazed.

"I'd love that; and my parents do rate my art, it's only that they don't understand that an untrained and careless kid can ruin brushes and don't see why I shouldn't let her use my kit, spread around my colours and so on."

"Oh dear" said Darryl "Well I know a bit about the shortcomings of parents, though I guess they are not as gruesomely bad as the Crabbes who thought Walter's joy in hurting animals and younger children was a case of amusing high spirits. But DO think about what might be cursed, won't you? I'll see if I can't get Victor Crabbe to blow in to have a chat with you, having been the older brother of a little monster. Now Walter's cured, Victor is his guardian; the courts took him away from his parents. Are your parents at all concerned?"

"They think she's got a little out of hand; I don't think they realise how much."

"Then write to them that she is acting very unreasonably and postulate the idea of a curse" said Darryl "If they're basically reasonable they may go looking. Unless she has it with her. You can tell them that it was mentioned by an English teacher who has seen similar behaviour in a cursed child – which I have – and who also mentioned about the teaching of art."

"Put the cursed item thing as a by the way….yes, that would work" said Viridian "Thank you; I'll do that."

Darryl hoped that was all it was; but he did not like to legilimens the child and see if he could chant a curse away without some kind of proof that it was a curse – and the material to start his cure from.

He hoped that this was all that it was and not a thoroughly nasty brat.

And of course if Viridian wrote of an English teacher, and Vivienne complained of Professor Zabini, there was a good chance they would not connect the two since his name sounded more Italian than English. Which if he WAS called on to chant a curse out of her would be handy as her parents might forbid it if they believed her over him.

He feared however that it might just be a case of being spoilt.

xxx

Darryl received a letter from a boy called Didi gan Gautic who was apparently in Jade's school; recommending him to be aware about supremacists and telling him that he was writing to his father who was a business man who heard a lot about a lot of things, if M. Zabini would be pleased to correspond with his said father.

It did please Darryl to have another source and so he wrote back to the boy and to the lad's father whose address Didi had thoughtfully included.

Anything that would give him extra information on anything that might become an issue during his stay in France was good; and it could too be passed onto Severus who co-ordinated the European efforts against any Odessa-like elements.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The first voluntary chanting class looked huge; and Darryl swallowed hard.

"Good afternoon" he said "Some of you are here to learn a little chanting to supplement your other studies; some of you are here with the intent of gaining a qualification; and some of you may be here under a few misapprehensions. We are not a nice gentle singing class wherein I shall be expected to admire vibrato of one kind or another; chanting is hard gruelling work. I will not take it as an insult if there is a large drop-off from the class since I strongly suspect many of you are not expecting pain for your lessons. The first few lessons WILL hurt; this I warn you. Unless you have already received proper singing training, or you swim a great deal or run, or are shirking my instructions. If I catch shirkers you'll be out; I'm not going to give up MY free time for time wasters. If you want to stay, you work and you work hard because I have only a year to give you competence in. I have no idea if my successor will be willing to give up free time. Those of you in the Troisième will be timetabled next year to take the ELM if you wish, though it may still be an English OWL; you will be doing two years' work in one year. Those of you in the Seconde will either have to take the exam in the Premiere or work extra hard if you want to take the exam on to ELF level. Those in the Premiere may work like stink to take an ELM in one year with those of the Seconde and hope to do the ELF in one year; those of you in the Terminale, only an ELM at best is open to you unless you choose to do an extra year somewhere like Prince Peak that offers post graduate studies, or the teaching hospital of St Bernard's which offers chanting studies for trainee healers. I am going to teach you first to breathe….WHAT is so funny about the concept young lady? And you too in the Premiere I believe, for shame! I threw a brat who could not stop giggling out of my class in the Cinquiem; don't think your age will stop me doing likewise to you."

"It just sounds so silly that we need to learn how to breathe when if we didn't breathe we'd be dead" giggled the girl. It was the girl called Hauvoise, Darryl noted.

"Mlle Whatever-your-surname-is, if you mess around in my class you may wish you WERE dead" he said coldly. "Anyone here a fan of the Broomstick Boys? A few? Can anyone tell me why they sounded tinny and rather thin on their early albums and are now actually rather good?"

"I'd guess sir that they learned to breathe" drawled Pharamond.

"Quite so M. Duval" said Darryl. "They learned to breathe and to sing and project properly. They also learned to chant. They are rather good, especially as they could only afford to put in one year's intensive study. Crys and Nils are dedicated and worked through the pain; I hope you all will."

"Oh SIR do you KNOW the Broomstick Boys?" asked a girl in, Darryl thought, the fifth.

"Yes; quite well" said Darryl "Most competent English chanters know each other; we are relatively few in number, and most of them taught by my erstwhile guardian, Professor Snape. I'll be using the material of Crys and Nils in some of my lessons as exemplars when we get onto devising poetic form for a particular task. But first, breathing; please rise, and by Merlin there's another ruddy giggler!"

"Plis, I cannot help it, I am sorry!" said the girl with unmistakeably Nordic looks.

"Then TRY to help it or I shall find a way to help you to help it by making you feel anything but mirthful" said Darryl

The girl giggled nervously and that set Hauvoise off again

Darryl began chanting in Hebrew – Lilith's researches rather rubbed off onto those around her – and presently a couple of clouds appeared above both girls and opened in a cloudburst.

Both squealed.

"The demonstration of the power of a chant in which it is possible for you to see that miraculous results can be acquired, even those contrary to nature. Like shutting up inveterate gigglers" said Darryl. He added a few more lines and the clouds dissipated and went. "You may remain damply chastened and learn; or go away. I don't much care which so long as you never giggle again" he said.

"You are SO powerful!" said Hauvoise.

"And you are so wet. May we get on without further ado?" said Darryl.

The class did NOT enjoy learning to breathe; and there were a few whines that it was hard. Darryl waved a hand.

"There's the door; if you don't want to take the pain for the gain, I don't want to see your Friday faces" he said

There were a few departures; including Hauvoise who did not consider the chance to ogle Professor Zabini was worth being wet AND in pain AND with him being sarcastic at her.

Darryl did not think she was much of a loss. The Swedish giggler was persevering and trying hard; and he praised her for it. He had lost seven overall right off; which gave him more manageable numbers as well as getting rid of the sillier or more fatuous ones. One of those in the Terminale had looked as though she might have had some ability from first signs; but she had not the will to push herself on. And in chanting, will was important.

He called a rest; and then announced an accelerator class. Most groaned.

A girl with the looks of the Middle East and a rather superior manner asked,

"Excuse, but is it possible to control demons with chanting?"

"I presume by 'demons' you mean those fey referred to as efreeti and genii who are raised by a spirit master" said Darryl.

"Yes of course I do! What else might I mean?" asked the girl.

"Well in your shoes, since I'm giving up my Saturdays for you, I think I'd mean something with a few more manners in it" said Darryl. "You are, at a guess, Assyrian; and I've not covered enough comparative magic to know if there was anything more that you might call demons. It's never wise to claim to be able to control anything if you don't know its nature. And it's one reason spirit masters are NOT always successful; lack of understanding. Your rudeness despite I shall give you a full answer as others here may also find it interesting. First, it is possible to set up a fey exclusion line which includes efreeti and Genii; I understand that they have one at Durmstrang since a girl there had a wicked uncle who dabbled in demonology and necromancy. It is possible too to set up an undeath exclusion line to keep out inferii, vampires, liches and other of the more dangerous kind of undead."

"I've never heard of liches sir; aren't inferii the most dangerous then?" asked another Terminale girl, a Swiss girl named Babette Weder. "I'm taking DADA to ELF."

"You won't at your level be called on to deal with anything more dangerous than inferii" said Darryl "There are many forms of unlife that have been tried by foolish wizards who long to delay the inevitable – death – and carry on in some kind of travesty and semblance of life. I can come back to that; if I may conclude the answer about demons first" he went on "Most Spirit Masters define a protective pentacle in which they stand to prevent those they raise turning on them. The patterns described in such a protective pentacle – sometimes a circle – may also be duplicated by chanting. Indeed some use words of power alone as a means of excluding summoned spirits. I have heard of a spirit master who thought he was clever using fire-writing to define his circle when attacking another school, only to have a rather disconcerting and permanent loss of control when a chanter on the staff made it rain not so much on his parade but on his fiery writing. As the fool was trying to control four, they each headed off in a different direction with a limb each. Not pretty. Which comes to the question of 'control'. The fey cannot be fully 'controlled' merely forced into a course of action while the wizard doing the forcing can manage to hold up his counters to their desires for freedom. He may use a chant that will work similarly to the imperious curse; but unless he is good enough, and understands enough about their nature to tie in the compulsion to obey permanently he has to be aware that sooner or later he will run out of voice to chant with. Or his unwilling servants might make a feather fly into his throat to make him cough. Be aware, Princess Orinjade, that there are no easy ways of dealing with raised demons."

"My name is Amyetis Al-Sharu and though I am pure blood of the highest class I am not quite a princess" said the Assyrian girl.

"It's a literary reference that I thought suited" said Darryl. "WERE you considering pursuing demonology?"

"I wasn't; I am something of a seer however and being able to advise ways and means to deal with problems at court might be useful" she said.

"I'll teach you a few banishing chants which I suspect will be most useful of all to you" said Darryl "But not until you have apologised for your earlier rudeness."

"I am sorry; I had thought you ignorant on the subject."

"I am" said Darryl "At least by comparison to some of the people I know. I can DEAL with the blighters; but I wouldn't want to set about summoning or controlling them. The results don't in my opinion justify the outlay of energy, not if you plan to do it properly and put them into well constructed pseudo bodies of conjured and permanenced matter…. Ah, I believe I have lost you now in all but the vaguest of terms."

"Professor if you are ignorant I think perhaps those you consider more competent must be truly remarkable" said Amyetis who was impressed.

"Merlin's beard, sir, that's about as much emotion as Amyetis has ever shown since she started school!" said Babetta "And by the way, you lost the rest of us long since."

"The fey" said Darryl "Are technically dark creatures with a lot of exceptions to the rule. Some ancient historians postulate that magic entered the human race through breeding with the fey; others that the fey were but attracted to humans who had the power. Many families – the Malfoys included – carry fey blood, generally what is called the High Fey, who appear mostly human and tall and fair. They may be evil or good or anything in between and are always capricious and need a water-tight contract for ANY deal you make with them. Rather like the Malfoys actually. Related to them at the lowest end of consciousness are the fairies and fairykind – doxies, pixies, knarls and so on. Related to them too, and also to humanity whose inherent stability of physical form has been exploited by these creatures of pure magic and spirit, are goblins and elves, hags, Veeli, Leprechauns, Duende, Porlocks and the many other kinds of fey who have managed to make a set form. Shapeshifters too originate in fey powers, at least the majority; werewolves are still being debated as lycanthropy is more by nature a disease. Most other forms of shapeshifting are hereditary only. The most powerful of the fey cannot form a physical body without blood sacrifice or the forming of a pseudo body by a competent magician who has the skill – and power – to make such from thin air and put a permanency charm on it. To do such a thing for a large powerful spirit like an efreet, a spirit of fire, would cause most wizards to have to drop the temperature in this room, using the heat energy of his surroundings, to a level where ice would form on objects that were in any wise damp. Efreeti and Genii are the forms chosen traditionally by the spirit masters of the east; in Europe the demon tends to be a creature of fire and shadow, often with horns and a tail. Myth shapes the fey; and the fey shape the myth. They like to get hold of a body – and incidentally providing someone else's body does count, one where the spirit is so close to death it can be easily displaced – and may perform some actions willingly enough as an exchange. But the contract is tight; and as you would hate to be summoned to another place of being without a by-your-leave so do they; and they ever look for loopholes, especially those that will permit the retaining of their physical form. They can enter paintings if the painter is one of power, and manipulate through a facsimile of themselves. For YOUR warning, Viridian, and anyone else who is an artist."

Viridian gasped.

"I – I did not know that!" he said. Darryl smiled thinly and went on,

"Sigils of power painted into your work, or indeed inscribed anywhere, can forbid them passage. A chant can set up a line they cannot pass; or open their own place to them and banish them back there. It's a long step from a fairy to the King of Hell but essentially they are cousins. The scary thing is, we may be too. The good news is, the powerful ones are rare and there are not many people who could raise them, still less control them. And without a good body, they soon get sucked back to where they belong."

"This is one reason that racism is so futile because we have already familial connections with goblins and elves?" asked Pharamond.

"Precisely" said Darryl "And moreover the reason elves are as they are – snivelling, cringing and pathetic – is because a form of the imperious curse was placed on the whole race, passed in their heritance, by their masters the high fey in order to placate humans by giving them the perfect slave. Some of us suspect, since the form they are in is also unnatural, that they were a family of goblin-like beings who had irritated some high fey who decided to punish the entire clan. Why is now immaterial; that it happened is a disgrace."

"YOU are a disgrace!" cried a girl in the fourth "You are filthy and obscene! Suggesting in any way we are related to filthy goblins and elves!"

"Well I wouldn't actually want to be related to you really, but alas, Heritance dictates otherwise" said Darryl in a sarcastic drawl. "We are interfertile with goblins, elves and other types of fey; which is indicative of a common ancestor and not that long ago either. Fact. By the way, I'll have fifty lines from you, 'name calling to professors is childish and unnecessary'.

"I shan't stay in a class that teaches such rubbish!" raged the girl.

"Good; I don't want you" said Darryl "I SHALL have the lines however; or you will find your name submitted to the head. I'll take forthright but I will NOT take names and insults. Have them in my pigeon hole by Tuesday after school."

The girl flounced out.

"Well SHE's no loss" said the part goblin girl in her class, one of the original hurley players. It was easy to see why she might be a trifle surly now.

"Don't ruin your pretty face bothering to think about her" said Darryl "Thinking unpleasant thoughts causes lines to form and as I value my own ineffable good looks I shall dismiss her from my mind forthwith."

"It's all right for YOU sir, she's not in your class" said the girl.

"Name?" said Darryl.

She flushed, scared she had gone too far.

"Philomène Fileur" she whispered.

"Mlle Fileur, I forgive a rather hot outburst in that I see you are upset" said Darryl "But there is nothing to stop you learning a chant that will set up around your person, or your belongings, an exclusion line of those who bear you ill will. Once you have that set up, any spiteful attempts to harm your belongings will fail. I will teach you, and anyone else who is bullied, how to do this. And under the circumstances, I will permit any who ARE bullied who are in the fourth to join the accelerator class." He glanced at Viridian "That does include home problems" he added.

He called on those who wished to sign up for the accelerator class to stay behind so he might take their names; who were essentially those Pharamond had indicated plus Amyetis – or Princess Orinjade as Darryl continued to think of her – Philomène and Viridian. It was a dozen; a larger class than he had anticipated but worth it if they would put the work in. Princess Orinjade sounded as though she might have some problems with spirit masters at home; and that too was worth finding out about in case it could cause troubles in a wider sphere.

He dismissed them and took himself down to the kitchen for a well-deserved butterbeer.

xxx

Philomène Fileur waylaid him as he was heading back to his room.

"Please sir, were you being ironic about ruining my pretty face?" she asked "Because if you were I want to say that it's rather unkind."

"Ironic? Not in the least" said Darryl "You have an elfin prettiness that the delicate goblin bone structure lends you. I have often noticed that half and quarter goblins are remarkably pretty; some truly beautiful. You are not beautiful; I'm afraid you are too er, cute. You do yourself no favours however by holding yourself on the defensive all the time; you are what you are, and should accept that, walk tall, and realise that those who don't like it are the poor sad little gits who are to be pitied. My fiancée is a full blood elf, who has found a larger form – I mentioned, I believe that the current form is a part of the curse – largely for practicality sake. Her face is unchanged and is sweet and beautiful, the more because she is serene. Mimi knows who she is and what she can do – she is in her last year at school taking eight NEWTs most of which she has every probability of taking at 'O' grade and she doesn't actually care whether other people like the idea of non humans at school or not; because it's their problem not hers. You too should feel the same; you're the first part goblin to be accepted here, aren't you?"

"Yes sir" said Philomène. "I don't think I could ever manage that number of ELFs; I might struggle with as many ELMs. I'm not BAD at anything – except quidditch – and I find charms really easy, which was why I was accepted I think, so I would look good in at least one subject. I like DADA because it's fascinating, well it is when you read the book, though Madame Duvall does drone rather and gets in a flap about things that are nasty. I'm really liking chanting so far, and I like Herbology and Ancient Runes."

"Ancient Runes is one of the keys to higher chanting" said Darryl "If you are not dire at Arithmancy, do pursue it; if necessary work on your own time. If you are the showcase part goblin, you might as well have the tools for higher magic. And you can always do a post grad year at Prince Peak to bring your Arithmancy up to speed; Hermione Granger – THE Hermione Granger – is very good. And Post grads eat with the professors, which means conversations about the Arithmancy of Apportation over breakfast and such things; you kind of absorb it through the skin. I haven't done the post grad, but I was Professor Snape's ward – as well as it being his adoptive daughter that I'm to marry – and so I've had similar conversations in the hols, including Lilith Snape, who is thirteen and a genius dipping soldiers in her egg and asking if one might invent a device to pop in the mouth to cast evanesco the moment you threw up. Because all small children are moderately revolting – she was ten at the time – and when they are also geniuses they are unanswerably revolting. I love Lilith to bits" he added "But she has no sense of decorum at meal times."

"I don't have any siblings" said Philomène "my mum's half goblin and she has rather small hips and when I was born it caused lots of problems and she couldn't have any more babies. I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"Perhaps because I'm the first person you've really spoken to who recognises your defensiveness for what it is, and too does not try to pass across your racial mix" said Darryl "I wouldn't mind betting a lot of people are afraid to talk about it for fear of actually causing racial issues by mentioning your race. Perhaps they feel that if they pretend you're human hard enough, it won't cause problems, whereas they actually treat you unnaturally."

"I rather fancy, sir, you've hit on it" said Philomène. "If it's only a desire not to cause problems then I guess that's a lot better than the teachers secretly hating me."

"When you have a child who is slightly different, for whatever reason, in your class, you don't want to be unfair to them" said Darryl "And that can end up being unfair the other way so the said kid is called 'teacher's pet' and 'oh the token goblin can't do anything wrong'. Or they swing back the other way to avoid you looking like teacher's pet…. You see what I mean?"

"Yes sir" said Philomène "But you just act naturally."

"Well maybe that's because, although I started out with some silly racist views, I went to Hogwarts first which had been taking goblins, part goblins and elves for years before I started; well, the first free elf is only a year ahead of me actually, but everyone knew that Mimi would be starting soon, it's just that Polly was the first. And in my own year, Gorbrin Malfoy-Tobak, the cleverest wizard of his age, re-introducer of quiddpolo, rich, talented, well connected, brilliant at quidditch, rather good looking in an arrogant Malfoyish sort of way, and a thoroughly decent fellow. One of my best friends" he added. "My year had three goblins, one half goblin and a half giant. And Prince Peak was initially the only school available for continental goblins. It still draws largely from the Swiss goblin community. And Switzerland, like England, and parts of France does have a number of mixed race couples. Hell, kid, I don't even NOTICE people's race; so I don't actually have any panic about how to treat them. Or rather, I notice in the way I log that someone has black hair or a mole on the face or freckles or a permanent expression like they're smelling something bad. And the only thing that causes me prejudice is the expression; and I try to see past that in case it's not a usual expression and has been caused by unusual circumstances. In your age group there was the giggling Swede, the whiney brat, the sour-faced scowler, the quarter goblin, the one with pigtails and the racist cow among the girls. I don't have names yet. I will – at least of those who are coming back and I doubt whiner or racist are going to."

"Britt-Mari – the giggler – is rather in the shadow of her sister Solveig in the Terminale, who sings and dances very well. Britt isn't asked any more because she giggles in embarrassment" said Philomène.

"Well then, you know what to do, don't you?" said Darryl "You boost her confidence by finding out what she IS good at and make her walk tall because however silly some people may be in trying to treat her as though she and her sister were the same, she is her own person and should glory in that. It IS a prejudice of mine, giggling; a bunch of featherheaded giggling idiots whose other hobby was gossip set up a rumour when I was at school that I had done something extremely mean; destroyed an exam piece in an exam where masterpieces taking all year are made as part of the practical. I was accused, tried and branded effectively without the chance to put any defence; not that I felt I should. Mimi stood by me. But it's left me with a distaste for those who go out of their way, it seems, to be brainless, and to believe any old rubbish and giggle over it. I'll try to be gentler on Britt; thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"Oh it was no loss to get rid of Hauvoise Nuitobscur; she's the world's biggest idiot" said Philomène "She even believes what's written in 'La Belle' which is a rag."

"Well I should not really comment" said Darryl. "You hang in there kid, and show them; then you pick whatever career you want and go for it. Healer, Auror, Teacher, Purveyor of Fine Brooms, Cheesemaker; whatever takes your fancy."

"Thank you sir; it's been very helpful talking to you" said Philomène.

She skipped off looking happier than Darryl had yet seen her except when she was playing hurley.

xxx

The dozen intensive students settled down to hard work; Darryl decreed that they should do theory on Monday and Friday and practicals on Wednesday and Saturday. And on that first Monday he set them as prep a chant to emulate the colour change charm, to be performed on sundry spiders; and having spoken of suiting the length of line and number of lines to either the effect of the chant or to the object to be affected he left them to conclude that eight lines each of eight syllables was probably the best form of poetry and suggested mildly that a thesaurus and a number of words meaning shades or kinds of their chosen colours might be a good idea.

Pharamond went a stage further by singing his poem in the style of the Blues to turn his spider blue, singing four lines of sixteen syllables:

'oh I woke up this morning, and there's my spider feeling all blue

he's in a mood indigo here, and I just don't know what to do

he's all cyanotic, dyspeptic, erratic, unhappy too

he wants some real azurance that he can just be true blue for you'.

Darryl groaned over the pun in the last line and marked it 'O' grade when the spider duly turned blue after only one repetition.

There was just time for everyone to get their chant done; they cut it fine, but the lesson only overran by five minutes and the whole class were much cheered to have done something for themselves with chanting.

xxx

At the end of the week, Madam Maxime announced that at the weekend there was to be a treat; a visit from a member of France's national quidditch team Alexandre Villepleine * who would talk to the pupils about the beautiful game.

Mme Demophile Clairdelune was heard to sniff and mutter about him having been a very unpleasant little boy who only played for the Beauvais Broomwonders because Paris Puissance would not have him.

The school as a whole cheered; being visited by somebody famous was always good, although some of the younger ones were heard to mutter that Mme Clairdelune had a point because a decent type would have come mid week and disrupted lessons.

xxx

"I love the beautiful game" said Alexandre Villepleine "It means almost everything to me; it is as though I am more alive when I am on my broom, catching and throwing the quaffle than at any other time in my life. It makes me feel like a king of all the world, I and all my fellows; we are all equals but we are all kings also. Quidditch lifts the spirits as the broom lifts you skywards; and it is a game of no boundaries, no language barrier; one communicates by playing."

"But it is refereed in English because words ARE necessary when there is a breach of the rules" said Amyetis Al-Sharu.

Villepleine glared at her, then made himself smile.

"Ah yes, of course, little girl; but of course too that is when things do not go right, when there are those who wish to thwart the beautiful game with fouls."

Amyetis looked outraged briefly at being called 'little girl' then schooled her face back to its usual impassivity.

"Or when an unusual situation arises such as at the world cup but last when two hands caught the snitch together" said Darryl "Or there is a technical foul not caused with intent to er, thwart the beautiful game. But the point you make surely is that the game has international appeal because little is needed in words since the game speaks so eloquently for itself."

He got a poisonous look from the professional for calling forth a spontaneous cheer for putting it so well. Amyetis gave him a little look of gratitude for daring to say what she wanted to.

Villepleine went on,

"I do indeed mean that the game speaks for itself; and like the heckling of a crowd is but briefly interrupted in its glorious song of freedom by any stoppages for fouls, intended or otherwise. Wizards and witches flying together, striving for excellence; for to strive for excellence is more important than winning" here he scowled at one of the Belgian twins who had muttered to his brother that this was just as well since France hadn't a cat's chance in hell of winning anything; and resumed "And learning that team spirit is what is matters overall. Witches and wizards, my dear children, literally above the crowd of marvelling amazed spectators; those who can dare to do, and so it is in life. We should strive; strive together, work for the greater good, for the marvellous feeling of freedom, of being kings among other kings…."

"Except M. Tisserand and he's a queen!" said an anonymous voice.

Darryl had sat bolt upright at the use of the phrase 'for the greater good'.

"Do go on, M. Villepleine" he said softly "I'm sure we are all quite fascinated to hear what you have to say. Do not let our choicer comedians disrupt your discourse."

The Darryl Zabini fan club glanced quickly at their mentor and then assumed rapt listening faces. Villepleine preened and resumed.

"Yes; we must all work for the greater good. And even as we who love the beautiful game strive to remove the fouls and uglinesses that can creep into the game, so to in real life we must strive to remove aberrations and ugliness that mar the great destiny of the game of life for wizards and witches."

Darryl saw Philomène open her mouth, and motioned her to silence. She shot him a look; but complied.

Villepleine was in full flow.

"We must prepare to unite under a new glorious captain" he said "And one who is ready to wage war on ugliness and aberration, on all those things that drag us down, the wrongness of rules introduced only to profit those in power; I speak of Achille Villeneuve, our glorious leader, the sun amongst kings of the sky and the rising dawn of a new age!"

He had wound down.

Darryl rose and walked to the front, forestalling Madam Maxime.

"Let me" he said quietly; for the Headmistress was furious and had not missed a single nuance. She looked at him; resisted; then nodded.

Darryl mounted the platform.

"Thank you for your most….illuminating….. address, M. Villepleine" he said. "I have to say I found it remarkably interesting, for I believe I have heard the phrase 'for the greater good' before; it is I believe over the doorway of the German prison Nurmengard being the catchphrase of Gellert Grindelwald. Interesting that. Now you speak of Achille Villeneuve; who, when he was living in England was keen to be known as Achille Crouch-Villeneuve to associate himself with that old English wizarding family. I knew Achille Crouch-Villeneuve at Hogwarts School, as it happens; not that he ever had his knife into me, because I happen to be pure blooded. He did not much like my friend though, who is a rather good quidditch player too, far better than him: Gorbrin Malfoy-Tobak. Of course Achille, being a big girl's blouse as he was, would not pick on a little goblin boy fully two years younger than him because Gorbrin was a Malfoy; and his daddy might have spoken harsh words to Achille's daddy. Oh wait, actually, Achille wanted an arranged marriage with Erica Malfoy, very much against her wishes, she being the same age as us, so Lucius laid his father out for thinking it proper after the creep touched up a thirteen year old little girl as Erica was then. But I digress."

Darryl paused slightly for the enormity of that to sink in, then went on,

"Achille liked picking on little girls of that sort of age; because when he was in the, er, Premier class he cast the Cruciatus Curse at a little girl in the Quartiem. And had the affair come to the ears of the Headmaster he would have been expelled and probably would even now be in Azkaban. But the child accepted the mediation of older children who offered Achille peer punishment – which Achille accepted because he knew the other consequences. Not because he was sorry for hurting a child who had played a silly and harmless prank; no, he was sorry that other people saw him lose his rather short temper. Achille is a bully, a racist, a coward and so poor a wizard that the child he cast an unforgivable curse at and her little friends regularly outsmarted and outjinxed him when he would wish to pick on them for not being a group of pure blooded witches. True, they were a bunch of small demons of mischief; I suspect any child in the Quartiem here now would sympathise with the concept of deadfalls and doorways enchanted to change the colour of anyone who comes through them, or corridors that cure people of not being tigers."

The third were listening in open mouthed amazement; deadfalls they could manage but these other japes were beyond them; the Hogwarts children had some unfair advantage that even their PRANKS were sophisticated! Darryl went on to a totally hushed crowd

"I should like to say that for all the fair words of rising suns and new ages, anyone who chooses to join an organisation with Achille Crouch-Villeneuve anywhere within it let alone at its head has to be totally insane or plain nasty; as nasty a piece of work as Achille and as stupid. Because he is a loser. He was, after all, eventually expelled from Hogwarts. I warn you of these facts not tied up in pretty and attractive language as our quidditch playing Nazi has tied up his propaganda but in plain words. Achille is a nasty, mean, inefficient poseur who would like to think he is a replacement for Gerhardt in Europe. Well, he's not in Gerhardt's league; I've FOUGHT Odessa. And Gerhardt ultimately had his ass whopped by the Terminale class of Durmstrang as an Easter Jolly to prepare them for their Dark Arts exam; a field trip as you might say. Achille is a sad little creature; emphasis on little. No goblin or part goblin need fear him; he is to be despised only."

Villepleine struck Darryl across the face.

"Goblin lover!" he cried.

"How do you manage to make a fact sound as though you consider it an insult, old boy?" said Darryl "I accept your challenge to a duel; after lunch will give the staff time to set up the piste and for you to call in a few sturmzauberern as seconds. I'll have Horace Deveraux and…. Amédé Cuiliere as mine if you will both act for me; I presume Charmaine Epeler will referee."

"Delighted old man" said Horace.

"At your service" said Amédé

"Oh, yes, quite!" said Charmaine.

"After lunch then you silly creature" said Darryl, smiling urbanely.

xxx

"I hope you know what you're doing" said Olympe Maxime.

"Yes" said Darryl "And you'd better double up the wards on the piste; I don't trust him to take care about the children and you can't really exclude them; besides, the way each of us acts and behaves will surely demonstrate to those of your children with influential families which is the side with honour."

"You are right…. You think he will show no honour?"

"His glorious leader never has" shrugged Darryl. "What's for dejeuner? I'm starving. Politics always takes it out of me."

* Alex Villaplane went from being France's captain of football in 1930 to being hung as a traitor in 1944 for collaboration, murder, torture, profiteering, theft and numerous other crimes. Just so his name shall live in infamy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The piste had been set up outside in the shade of awnings while the students ate their midday meal and Darryl was amused that his opponent did not manage to be so ardent that he was prepared to forgo his post-prandial period of relaxation.

Two other young men had joined him as his seconds and introduced themselves; and Darryl was relieved that he recognised neither name from French quidditch. It was not then a disease infesting all quidditch players, this move for supremacy.

xxx

The piste was to be in the centre of the quidditch pitch; the students watching from the tiers around. Most had brought omnioculars for a better close view. Darryl and Villepleine mounted onto the raised platform.

"Mark well" said Darryl to the crowd "That the size of the piste is arithmantically considered, it is twenty feet by six feet, making the area one hundred and twenty square feet or five factorial. This makes the enchanting of the protective dome easier as the volume enclosed utilises a significant number. Arithmancy. It's worth persevering. My apologies Herr Hitler, I mean M. Villepleine; once a teacher always a teacher."

Villepleine sneered.

"Apparently those who can, do and those who can't, teach; you can't even recall my name correctly."

"You are a poor sap" said Darryl equably "History not your long suit either I see. Well shall we shake as gentlemen before we go through the barrier?"

"I am not touching a filthy goblin lover" said Villepleine.

"Ah? Well if you wish to be so childish as to avoid civility there is nothing to be said" said Darryl.

"He has an awfully wordy way of not saying anything, doesn't he?" muttered Amédé in grudging admiration to Horace.

"Of course he does, my cabbage; dealing with the likes of this would-be Odessa type is the reason the boy is here" Horace murmured back. "Unless you would LIKE to see France controlled by supremacists?"

"I would not. Well I suppose Snape knows what he is doing; though it's hard to put trust in the duelling abilities of a willowy fop."

"I rather fancy we may see more than M. Villepleine is bargaining for" said Horace, in satisfaction.

xxx

Charmaine Epeler raised her wand.

"Wands to the ready; commence!" and she brought her wand down.

The blasting curse was only to be expected from the Nazi; and Darryl waved it contemptuously aside. There were sudden giggles from the crowd because though it seemed to Villepleine that his opponent did little but counter his offensive spells – the cutting spell, and a variant of _Sectum Sempra_ to which the incantation was _Sectum totalis_, a less elegant solution – Darryl was wordlessly and wandlessly transfiguring each lock of the quidditch player's hair into canaries growing out of his head; and when they all began to sing at a nod from Darryl, his opponent almost jumped into the air in surprise. Darryl murmured "_Volde!"_ and the little birds took off.

Being still attached to Villepleine's hair this was quite painful for the quidditch player who yelled and batted feebly at the birds, somehow convinced that Darryl had summoned them to mob him. The spectators were rocking with laughter; which had been the whole idea. Darryl flicked his hand – his non wand hand – and the rest of the hair became feathers and detached so the little creatures might go free. They were physical bodies and might pass through the spell barrier freely and roost, as they did, on the goal hoops.

Villepleine put his hands to his bald head, aghast.

"Rather a Hogwarts tradition, old boy, to go for the transfigurational solutions in duels. Not so crude or random as a mere blasting curse" said Darryl. One had too to keep up the tradition of misquoting from Star Wars.

He neatly countered the entrail expelling curse and while his opponent – who was actually moderately good – countered _levicorpus_ cast with his wand, Darryl used a gesture from his left hand to turn him into an owl. He rejected the opportunity to make any jokes about 'a bit of a hoot'; it did not work so well in French anyway. The owl hooted in desperation; obviously the fellow had not learned so well how to cast non verbally. Darryl had more or less forgotten his wand and certainly bothered not at all with any kind of incantation as he cycled the owl through a number of other creatures using the Snape-Malfoy principle of Assimilative Correlation by Ridicule in that it was easy to let the mind drift from one silly-looking creature to another, bringing a flustered owl close enough to go smoothly to diricawl, aardvark, tapir, echidna, platypus, duck, teddy bear, and back to his original form.

Still without hair.

Villepleine was screaming.

"You can always resign old boy" said Darryl.

"Like hell!" screamed Villepleine "I call DEATH DUEL!"

"Let it be so registered" said Darryl. "Though I consider it discourteous of you to wish a messy death in front of the children."

"They'll see you die and know that what you stand for is weak and insane, as you are weak and insane!" said Villepleine.

"Funny; I thought so far I'd done more to you than you had to me" said Darryl.

He took a wound in the next furious encounter; he was busy muttering under his breath to build up a diffusion grid. The cutting curse slashed his face and he grinned a mirthless grin, his teeth white in his black face as he swallowed the blood that flowed inside the cut that had gone right through his cheek. The grid was fortunately in place; for it was hard to chant with a damaged mouth. He healed the cut and began an offensive chant. His opponent, seeing his cutting spell having some effect tried it again; and then howled as he found his nose growing to Darryl's chant.

"Ever heard of the story of Pinocchio, old boy?" said Darryl "Every time he told a lie his nose grew. Seems to me you're such an egregious liar you need a good few feet more. It's a nice simple chant, I hope my students are taking note of it."

There was much laughter in the tiers.

The next words from the Quidditch player stopped all laughter in its tracks and chuckles turned to screams of fear.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he shouted.

Taunted beyond bearing the Nazi lost his temper; how DARE this sneering fool make CHILDREN laugh at him?

Green light washed around Darryl.

"You observe, mes enfants" said Darryl "That it is sometimes better to take a small wound in order to concentrate on a chant when you anticipate that your opponent is likely to cheat; the chant of the English counter to the killing curse which minimises it to a headache. Having a headache however I am now getting mildly irritated with this excrescence, and it was he who called death duel."

He tossed his wand into the air and let it spin once before catching it as though it were the hilt of a sword as the blade of energy shot out of the end of it. How like Draco it had been to manage to invent a lightsabre; and how appropriate to fight dark wizards as a Jedi!

Darryl grasped his energy sword and advanced lightly and inexorably on his opponent who screamed and tried to cast the killing curse again. This time Darryl parried it with his light sword. It was an interesting experiment to try because the blood group would always share the wound if he had to take it; but it worked! Indeed it more than worked; the parrying was almost like the use of the mirroring spell, for it bounced the curse right back; and in his own flash of green Alexandre Villepleine died.

"Hmm, have to be careful of that, not to cause any ricochet" muttered Darryl "That could have passed through the barrier into the crowd. Handy though" he added to himself.

He stalked to the edge of the piste and raised a hand lazily to the crowd who were roaring approval. A lot of the girls were sobbing in fright. Darryl nodded to his dead opponent's seconds.

"HE called death duel; HE broke the rules with a forbidden curse; and HE died by his own hand before I could cut him into several pieces with my energy blade" he said.

"But – but it is impossible!" cried one "Villepleine has never lost a duel in his life, even against duelling champions!"

"Helluva time to start when he's called death duel if you ask me" said Darryl, laconically. "It is, however strange it seems to you, true; he is dead and I am alive. He should perhaps have known better than to duel an Englishman. We don't duel for sport; only to win. Tell Achille Crouch-Villeneuve to creep back to his kennel and stop making a fool of himself trying to be the Sun King because he's as ridiculous as the French muggle king who claimed the same title. If he disbands this stupid organisation he will live. If he persists, he will ultimately die as did Gerhardt. The choice is in his hands; we do not permit megalomaniac weirdos to disrupt the peace and good life of the ordinary folk."

"How dare you speak so of our glorious leader?" cried the other second.

"Dare? Because when we were at school together and he was two years above me I could have taken him easily without working up a sweat" said Darryl "And unless he's grown a lot of courage and actually put in an ounce or two of effort since then I shouldn't think it would be any harder now. He's a poltroon, lazy and a coward, and if you really want to duel me on that I'm willing to oblige because that gets rid of one more worthless being because even if you don't call death duel I shall leave you in the form of the ass you show yourself to be."

"He will not duel you" said the other icily "Nor will I; our duty is to report. I would like to take your name to report to our leader."

"Certainly old boy" said Darryl equably "It's Darryl Zabini, disciple of Severus Snape and honorary marauder. Do remember to tell him that; it's rather important. In case he's forgotten how much he dislikes the punishment draught and tigers."

"I shall repeat your self-imposed titles verbatim" said the second.

"Do; save that they are descriptors not titles" said Darryl "You might want to avoid mention of the punishment draught and tigers however; I do recall that Achille was wont to punish the messenger for unpleasant news and he will be infuriated to be reminded of his school humiliations" and he grinned to see that a quick look of fear passed over the man's face.

Darryl strode off towards the school; he wanted a shower.

"Sir, can we learn to chant the counter to the killing curse?" asked Pharamond.

"Well of course anyone CAN; moreover you MAY learn it when you are more competent" said Darryl. Then he grinned at the boy "It's one of the protections I want those I train to take my place as protectors of the school to have" he added. "You might think about a team to put together who will be prepared to risk their lives to serve that purpose. I am not concerned with keeping to the same age group" he added.

"I shall sir" said Pharamond.

It had never been in the remit to set up marauders at Beauxbatons; but if Achille the Pill were flexing his puny muscles then really he had little choice. And he would not object to Pharamond being his brother.

xxx

Madame Maxime did NOT permit the seconds of Alexandre Villepleine to leave until such time as she had drafted a letter to the ministry outlining the way in which their principal had died; and that he had already used the Killing curse on his opponent. She had them, and Darryl's seconds, Darryl and Amelie Epeler sign two copies of the account – one to keep herself in case of accidental misfiling and one to send to the ministry – because, as she said, governments did not like people dying in duels, especially those that were not professionally organised, and she did not intend anyone to permit any blame to accrue to her school or staff. Darryl considered her wise.

A French Auror arrived before le diner, and Darryl found himself questioned, kindly but thoroughly.

"You know, old man" said Darryl "I'm actually a better occlumens than you are a legilimens; I think for MY protection as well as your records it might be as well to place the memory of the event in Madam Maxime's Pensieve for you to peruse; because I don't believe it's actually possible to mess with those memories without leaving obvious traces."

"Eh, bien; that would perhaps be better" said the Auror "And how do you come to be an occlumens, professor?"

Darryl shrugged.

"I've been a ward of Severus Snape; you kind of pick up esoteric stuff around so great a man just by breathing the same air in a way" he said. "Besides, I had some personal problems and I was taught self-legilimensy to understand myself better; the one almost follows directly with the other. I did not bother to use any form of legilimensy in the duel; it seemed an unfair advantage to make use of the personal boggart curse. I was planning on turning him into an ass using his own name; I don't really like killing. I was glad not to have to kill him myself" he added. The Auror nodded; he could smell truth when he heard it.

Darryl put the memory in the Pensieve and the auror watched, his eyes narrowed as he came out.

"Nasty piece of work, this Villepleine" he said.

Darryl shrugged.

"For one advocating a movement that I believe was the New Sun, hardly surprising" he said.

"What do you know about that?" the auror asked sharply.

"That my erstwhile guardian Severus Snape has received reports about its existence, growing from the remnants of those who supported Odessa, and though seriously set back by my friend Kinat Konal's efforts in co-operation with your chaps to undermine the attempts to use goblins and incite them to atrocities, still going; and that Kinat's suspicions that he could not prove that the Villeneuve family and Achille Crouch Villeneuve in particular are at back of it. Beyond that nothing" said Darryl. "Obviously you people are watching Achille – he was a horrid little boy at school and I doubt that has changed – but I fancy he is JUST clever enough not to do anything overt or speak in public as this tool of his was doing of anything but new dawns and striving to get rid of anything aberrant and ugly. You know they mean goblins and half goblins; and I know they mean goblins and half goblins; but what you and I know isn't proof. And at least the French government wants to make sure this thing never gets such a foothold as Odessa did; and I'm here in an advisory capacity for Madame Maxime in case they try the old trick of getting them while they're young. Which they seem to be; use a sports hero to promulgate their filthy lies."

The Auror grunted.

"Well MOST of the government is dedicated to modernity" he said. "And we've got a good goblin branch in the department of law enforcement; no trained aurors yet though."

"Even England only has one in training" said Darryl. "Education takes a while to complete; Beauxbatons has gone only as far as half goblins and you need too to have the bravest and best who'll accept being the first, and the added dangers of assassination on top of the normal dangers of an auror's life. In England we have Gorbrin Malfoy-Tobak, whose real father died leading a peaceful demonstration and whose step father is Lucius Malfoy. Gorbrin has been reared to snap his fingers at danger. Maybe Achille will leave Beauxbatons alone now he's warned that one of the disciples of Severus Snape is here; the message I sent by his cohorts was that he should enjoy a long and healthy life by stepping back from futile politics. If he becomes a terrorist like Gerhardt, sooner or later he'll run up against someone who's harder than him. Which is most people over about twelve if he runs true to form; he only ever was any good at bullying little kids at Hogwarts because he was a wimp. I hope he'll take the advice and all will fizzle out; but I fear I doubt it. The only way he might become truly dangerous though is to take the logical step forward and delay his plans by preparing with more care over making sure he has a loyal base."

"How would he do that?"

"By setting up his own school, advertising that he took only those of pure blood and near pure without the contamination of mudbloods or goblinkind" said Darryl "Which might attract those parents dubious of half goblins in the school. Because there are people that stupid. Then all he has to do is to inculcate them with his own brand of belief throughout their school life; one is very susceptible to the beliefs of those one respects during the teenage years, it's what makes teaching such a frightening business because you have such a terrible responsibility to project and live up to the highest ideals."

"Which makes YOU, professor, a better man than those who would only teach their own propaganda" said the Auror.

"I don't know; I go by what I believe in. Do others who preach racism go by what THEY believe in? If so they have the excuse of sincerity. Achille however is a racist but ultimately Achille is an Achillist. He's on the bandwagon of some resentment over more rights for goblins. And he has to choose whether he appeals to the Aristos or the peasants or the bourgeoisie. The aristos don't care providing you have the right accent, and know the rules. The peasants don't care providing you pull your weight at harvest. They can be told what to think, told that goblins want to rape their daughters and take their jobs; and they believe what educated men say. But I think that's a long term goal and he wants more educated men to be able to tell them what he wants them to think, and the attempt on hearts and minds at Beauxbatons almost proves this. Bar a few families, most French aristos educate their children at home or in small, exclusive schools of the club of aristocracy and for it. This differs from Germany where the discipline of the school experience is considered appropriate for a young aristocrat and it is the upper bourgeoisie who have home education. The children of Beauxbatons are bourgeois like those of us from Hogwarts. There are no real aristocrats in England; it's more or less un-English. There are only those who fulfil the purpose of aristocracy like the Malfoys. And when all is said and done, those of the bourgeoisie want to be aristocrats or at least to rub shoulders with aristocrats; and this crap about striving and elevating witches and wizards and the other things he said that make me long to reach for a sick bag might appeal to some of the sillier children whilst in the throes of the uncertainties of adolescence. It suggests that they, if they join forces with this fool, might be the new dawn's aristocrats, those who lead. That's the way I understand it anyway. An appeal to those well off enough to have leisure to think and enough covert ambition to believe the big lies without thinking too hard."

"You've put that very well; do you mind if I use it in my report? It's a brilliant piece of psychological analysis" said the auror.

"Feel free; it's more or less a paraphrase of comments Severus has made from time to time with my own views added" said Darryl. "As he says, you have to understand the enemy before you can defeat him; and though Achille is rather too nebulous a character to be fully dubbed an enemy yet, he'd like to be if none of those nasty rotten English stomp over his ambitions of world domination because they cheat by being harder than him. And I'd like to make sure there's enough French kids trained to understand the realities of life so even more people can be unfair to Achille by seeing what a little fool he is."

"Quite; it is not pleasant to have to rely on the aid of foreigners" said the auror. "No offence meant."

"Oh none taken" said Darryl. "And there are some good kids in the school who just need a bit of direction. Well, nice to have met you."

xxx

Darryl went to see Olympe Maxime.

"Olympe, I had not originally intended to do so, but I shall be leaving you with a gift when my year is up" he said.

"Am I going to like it though?" asked Olympe.

"Not all the time, no" said Darryl "But a pragmatic woman like yourself will appreciate it no end."

"Ah, now I know I shall definitely need you to talk very fast Darreel; when an Englishman uses flattery he is about to present bad news" said Olympe.

"You know the English very well" said Darryl. "I plan and purpose to set up something which started in Hogwarts; initially a group of boys wanting to protect the one of their number who was the odd one out; the boy unfortunate enough to be a werewolf. It was revived a generation later to protect Harry Potter and to stand against Voldemort. There have always been Marauders in the school since, largely to stand against bullying and racism; and to be ready as the Head's cohorts against dark wizardry too. It travelled with Severus to Prince Peak, as Severus is one of the original generation; Jade took it to Durmstrang; and to her own school. The time has come, I believe, for Beauxbatons to have marauders."

"Darreel, I cannot have little children – even big children – risking themselves! The parents would be incensed!"

"There is a further part to it, a part that in a great way protects those who join. Those who are accepted as marauders join the mighty blood group set up originally to protect Harry; I can BOUNCE the killing curse if need be; it's why I felt sanguine about experimenting over parrying it with my energy sword. The blood share is one of the few light magic uses of blood magic because it is a SHARING; dark magic requires that blood be TAKEN. If you've read Severus' book on the subject you will understand. And if one is in danger, why any others can hit the ground running, with the ability to apport past anti-apparating zones to support them if need be. Marauders protect; their own as well as other children, other populations."

"Darreel I will have nothing to do with it; you are English and will be stubborn and go your own way, but I say that this conversation never took place" said Madam Maxime "Never."

Darryl bowed and left her office. Madam Maxime wanted to be able to deny all knowledge of the blood group whilst tacitly giving him permission; how very French.

Well when she saw what could be done perhaps she would be more willing to embrace it.

xxx

Pharamond was waiting outside Darryl's room.

"Busy day" said Darryl laconically "Put on the water lad; I need a coffee."

Pharamond did so.

"I wrote a list and then sounded people out and brought you the list rather than bring you possible volunteers" he said. "I tried to put two or three names down in each year, which is about the most you'll get of those prepared to actually act. There aren't any in the terminale; I half considered er, Princess Orinjade – I wish you will direct me to the literary reference – but she's such an aloof piece I wasn't sure whether to or not. And she isn't French and might not consider the protection of even her old school worth it."

"Perhaps I can sound her out myself" said Darryl "Let's look at your list; ah yes, I'm not in the least surprised to see it headed by you three musketeers" for at the top were the names of Pharamond himself and his friends Abelard and Jean-Luc. "The rivals alone in the Seconde?"

"The only leaders; which is why they fight" shrugged Pharamond. "Too much alike and should have been best of friends."

"Hmm, yes, well I've come across THAT before; and you may well hear a bit of the history of it too" said Darryl. "Eduard is a little excitable; he's bright enough but I think you show good judgement in leaving him out even though both rivals do count him friend."

"He can blurt things out even at his age; and he's easily reduced to being an emotional wreck" said Pharamond. "I'm guessing you want people who can hold it together no matter what?"

"Indeed" said Darryl. "Philomène and Viridian; not the Austrian boy?"

"Duran is the most disorganised" said Pharamond "And though he's not what you'd call selfish he does put fun above anything else. It might be a weakness. If he grew up he could always be invited in later, couldn't he?"

"He could; that's good thinking" said Darryl. "Chantelle – she's the girl with the kind eyes isn't she? Amelie I know; which is Candide?"

"Chantelle is known to dive in with both feet and fists in what is considered an unladylike fashion to defend anyone she thinks needs defending" said Pharamond "And Candide is pure blooded and intolerant of intolerance, stupidity, vacillating, and any number of other things but not of race. I put her down with a bit of hesitation because it's said Professor Snape whom you follow does not suffer fools much either."

"Much? At all" said Darryl "She should certainly be brought to the ECC. And in the year below you have Amelie's sister Melusine; Armand is the half goblin lad, isn't he, the hard working boy?"

"Yes sir" said Pharamond.

"And in the first – Sixieme rather – the Belgian twins and Emilien. Not the youngest Lafée child?"

"No; Auberon seems a decent kid but with two loudish sisters and a forceful mother he likes a quiet life, and this organisation is not going to be for those who like a quiet life, is it?"

"It certainly is not" said Darryl. "I'm inclined to start only with the oldest and hold the younger ones in reserve for those of you who are here next year and the year after to bring in fully then. Because Madam Maxime does not want to know about what I am doing; we have tacit, but only tacit permission and on my own head be it."

"THAT risky?"

"Like many intelligent yet not deeply thinking people Madam Maxime is bound by convention and the conventional view" said Darryl "And I do not necessarily mean that as a criticism; she means well by her students."

"Damning with faint praise" said Pharamond. "In other words we fight this New Sun Rising organisation but we don't actually expect either her support or even acknowledgement?"

"That's about the size of it" said Darryl.

Pharamond nodded.

"Fair enough he said.

"And now" said Darryl "Strike through any names who might get squeamish about using blood magic; and if that's yours I'll have to live with that."

"I don't actually know enough about it to make an informed choice, sir" said Pharamond "But I don't believe you'd ask us to do anything that was seriously er, skanky."

"Shared blood in a ritual is not dark magic" Darryl was explaining for the second time; sighed, poured himself a second cup of coffee and told Pharamond the history of the blood group.

"That was actually a pretty amazing level of loyalty in the first lot before they knew what it could do" said Pharamond "Thinking that each might die in turn from the Killing Curse to keep Harry Potter alive; mind you I guess I'd leap in with both feet for you too sir. Not in any soppy way you understand."

"Pharamond, love does not have to be sexual, romantic or soppy; it's not something to be defensive about just because stupid girls giggle pruriently and assume that l'amoooour is about kissing covertly behind the broomsheds" said Darryl irritably "I love Severus Snape with a deep and fierce intensity; I love him as my mentor, my protector, the father of my beloved and the man who has helped me find my own manhood because I had a lot of growing up to do. If you're concerned that you might be gay, just stand back from any romantic entanglements until you know how you feel one way or the other; it's no big deal. Albus Dumbledore is gay. Hasn't stopped him being anything he wants to be."

Pharamond blushed.

"I had a sort of encounter that was embarrassing when I was in the troisieme with a boy in the Premiere" he said. "And I don't think I am gay but I'm afraid of you thinking I might be, you know, like those soppy girls."

"I don't Pharamond; I'm beginning to look on you as a little brother" said Darryl. "And if we go through with blooding you will BE my little brother. Yes, relationships do develop within the blood group; once you are in, you will never be satisfied with anyone who is not. Mimi brought me in because she had decided that I was hers."

"It's all right then to bring in someone you er love?" Pharamond asked.

"So long as you have agreement from a quorum; because they have to feel right. We have, however, a theory that nobody falls deeply for someone if they don't feel right. I don't actually have any argument with the list you gave me; the ones you left off were those I was dubious about but wanted to just run past you in case. It often, but not always, goes in families too; which was why I queried young Auberon. And he may have more strength and his quiescence may turn out to be quiet stubbornness in a year or two. It may not. Not all the Malfoy kids are in it; only some. And by Malfoy kids I mean the extended and adopted ones too, because they all count the same. And it makes no difference to which ones are in and which are not. It's sort of an elite, at least in England; but it's an unacknowledged elite and only so because those who took power from the ministry were those who were already of it and who had overthrown Voldemort. And we ARE all kin closer than kin. And another thing you need to ask yourself; are you ready for that depth of relationship with those you name? And bear in mind that you will become kin of goblins and elves and all kinds of half breeds."

"Oh that doesn't trouble me" said Pharamond "Papa has a goblin mistress, and if she'd had any kids they'd be my brothers and sisters without any trouble; only she's barren. It's why she was divorced by her goblin husband who by all accounts was a bit of a pig. She thinks dad is a ruddy god. Maman tolerates her because she's not that interested in sex; having got dad an heir she told him to get a mistress or two and so long as whoever he picked knew who was the woman of the house she would prefer to keep them under her eye. Is that how it is for Lucius Malfoy?"

"Funnily enough no" said Darryl "Lucius adores all his women equally and they love each other; and having been brought into the bloodkin they have an even closer bond now. Severus adores Krait; he loves Sirri and Dione. He and Krait have enough love to go around for those who were needy for it you see. Sirri being my Mimi's mother I know a bit about it. But I guess your mum is still a fairly special person."

"I think she sees Zena like a poor relation; to be gently bullied but cared for" said Pharamond. "My parents get on all right for an arranged marriage; they talk about stuff and manage to be friends. I'm to be allowed to choose my own wife though; they think arranged marriages are awfully old fashioned. This Achille likes the status as it was quo'd from a long time ago, doesn't he?"

"Little people fear reforms in case it erodes their power" said Darryl. "When he was assuming that Lucius would be happy that a pure blood wizard offered for his bastard – Erica – he was confidently writing that she need not even take her OWLs if she turned sixteen beforehand because she wouldn't need an education as a wife; which is quite Germanic in its archaic barbarity."

"Rather" said Pharamond "I'd like to see anyone trying to take my maman's wand away!"

"You say that; but a girl from Prince Peak married a German nobleman of Odessa leanings and he had her wand taken by his elves, and raped her when she said no wand, no sex; and basically imprisoned her, and wouldn't let her use contraceptive potions and tortured her until she got with child. She managed to run away; Severus is rearing her baby. He death-duelled the husband. But in THIS day and age!"

Pharamond shuddered.

"And we certainly don't want this here Achille doing likewise to France" he said. "Where did you want to cut off for age?"

"For now" said Darryl "And I'm not ruling out the possibility of bringing in the younger ones before I leave, down to Philomène and Viridian. Get Candide into the ECC; and will you sound out the rest about blood magic?"

"Yes; I want to know how far they will trust me because it has to be two way" said Pharamond. "And though we're friends I fear I have doubts about Abelard and Jean-Luc being willing to go that far. Still, I might be surprised."

"And people who have reservations DO change their minds later" said Darryl. "Don't rush it; we can get together later in the week or next weekend to discuss matters and ask questions. I'd rather do it right than do it fast."

"Yes sir" said Pharamond "Well it's close on my bedtime; so I'll bid you good night."

"And I you" said Darryl.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Look here Darryl, I never knew you had the same feelings as me, but you ought to be a bit more discreet" said Homere Tisserand, quietly, in the staff room next morning.

"I beg your pardon old boy?" said Darryl.

"That gorgeous piece of tail, Pharamond Duval… I SAW him coming out of your room. If I'd known he was available I'd have dropped a line there myself" said Tisserand.

Darryl stared at him.

"Am I to infer that you are so sex mad that you jump to the erroneous conclusions that others might also be so lost to shame as to have an affaire with a pupil?" he asked "Even if I were inclined towards boys – which as I have a perfectly gorgeous fiancée would be an awful insult to her ineffable charms – I should consider it most improper to engage in any kind of casual liaison with anyone I was teaching. You are disgusting Homere."

Homere gazed at him open mouthed.

"Well what was he doing in your rooms?" he asked.

"Keen to know more about how to chant up the diffusion grid to block the killing curse; what else?" said Darryl. "Is this a French thing to have filthy and prurient minds or is it only you?" he spoke loudly "I have no secrets because I have done nothing shameful. The boy needs more Arithmancy if he is to attempt serious chanting; and I agreed to teach him the same so he'll be visiting my room when he and I both have spare moments. I may end up with a small class since plenty who find Arithmancy hard give up without realising how important it is; and of course as I have only a few lessons scheduled I consider it unfair on Nine to put in extra time for the gratification of MY students. I have asked Pharamond to find out if there are others who wish extra lessons and if I am to be accused of improper practices for trying to fulfil the tough task I have had imposed on me of catching them up in chanting I dread to think how Signorina Uccello is going to feel next year, being a sensitive girl, if accused of taking on dolly boys if SHE offers extra coaching. You French think of nothing but sex!"

"That's true enough" said Elvira Van Diemen in her rather colourless voice. Darryl could not help reflecting that if she ever had any close communication with sex she would probably die of shock.

"It's a little indiscreet all the same to have a pupil alone in your room, however pure your motives" said Nine "I don't want to coach dunderheads who missed their chance to work for me the first time round; you're quite right Darryl and I wish you joy of them. What is your Arithmancy like?"

"Well they don't give above 'O' grade in the NEWT but Severus found out that with the bonus questions I scored a hundred and nine per cent" said Darryl. "We do rather leave NEWT level behind in family discussions in the Snape household; one of the favourite topics is the number of theoretical universes that exist to which one might Vanish rubbish and whether one always opens the same one or whether each _evanesco_ opens a little pocket universe just for that small part of rubbish. It gets quite heated; very exciting."

Tisserand, who was a handsome young man, stared in disgust.

"You English!" he said "You may have an appreciation of European history but to get excited over Arithmancy? Ah bah! You are indeed as frigid as all the English and doubtless your fiancée frozen also. No, the fair Pharamond would not be attracted to so cold a fish; I was indeed wrong."

"You appear to have some esoteric discussions" said Nine, paling; well aware that such arguments were well beyond her, and recalling the conversations Jade Snape Luytens and Hermione Granger had been having at the Symposium that had left her far behind.

"It's Jade's and Lilith's bag really" said Darryl "But we all chip in. Severus has proven the existence of eleven other Arithmantically provable universes and we all helped with a little bit of his proof by taking on different lemmas."

"Darryl" said Charmaine Epeler "You lost everyone, including Nine, a while back; and now you're being boring."

"Sorry Charmaine" said Darryl "Too much enthusiasm for esoteric subjects. Homere, if you embarrass that poor child by saying anything to him, I'll bloody well crown you."

"Oh I shan't; don't worry about that" said Tisserand. "But I shall be ready to display sympathy in his History lessons over having to do extra Arithmancy with the English cold fish."

"You're an idiot" said Darryl.

xxx

Viridian was early to the Monday lunch time chanting class.

"I had a reply from my parents; they've found a book that was both horribly attractive and has frightening concepts in it; they think Vivi picked it up on a market stall" he said "I asked them to come up to school and see you."

"Good man" said Darryl "Any idea how long she's had it?"

"Several years; and actually thinking about it, it's over the last two or three years she's been worse" said Viridian.

"Well that's not as bad as poor little Walter Crabbe who was under the influence of HIS book for more than six years" said Darryl. "They'll bring it along?"

"Yes; I asked them to. And they WILL let me transfer to Prince Peak after Yule, and will ask about Vivi too because she could probably do with a new start; AND Professor Snape is a world class curse breaker to keep an eye on her; no disrespect to you sir."

"Oh I agree wholeheartedly; and he's seen it before not just heard about it as I have" said Darryl "She'll be embarrassed to be around others I should think that know what she's been like."

"The thing is I wanted to join the… the Marauder thing" said Viridian.

"They have Marauders at Prince Peak too; there's a big group of Marauders in your year and the year above- they sort of occupy both age-groups" said Darryl. "It's a big year; already fourteen in the class but you're used to more. Are you doing extra Arithmancy with me?"

"I think I'd better" said Viridian. "Thank you sir!"

"You're welcome" said Darryl.

They studied odes this week; and Darryl beckoned Pharamond to stay behind a moment.

"If M. Tisserand makes any comment or suggestion you find unacceptable you should either make a formal complaint to the head or tell me and I'll have words with him" he said.

Pharamond blushed.

"He fancies me" he said. "But I like history."

"Well remember you have your rights if you feel he is harassing you" said Darryl. "And if he makes a real nuisance of himself I might just chant him into Mlle Tisserand."

Pharamond laughed.

"Is that possible sir?"

"Oh yes; it's a family habit to do it to rapists but for my little brother to be I'll stretch a point. After all, he likes other lads."

"I rather fancy only in the dominant role" said Pharamond, flushing again. "But it will cheer me up to think of it and picture him in frilly gowns with too many frou-frous."

"Well I'm glad to help; run along now" said Darryl.

xxx

It came to Darryl in the middle of the afternoon as he corrected work he had set the second years that Homere Tisserand's quiet suggestion of discretion had been meant to be a friendly suggestion that two of like predilections should get together; he had been about to come on to Darryl.

Darryl, who accepted being gently but firmly poked into coming on to Mimi by that managing but gentle young lady, was faintly outraged, more at the concept of a semi blackmailing seduction than by the mistaking of his preferences.

He laughed at himself as soon as he realised that the outrage was over the concept that he should be the one doing the running since he had done nothing of the sort over Mimi having fallen headlong into her arms rather than pursuing her; and blessed his little love silently for her ability to stroke his ego enough to let him feel in control of the situation when doubtless she had their entire life totally under control of her tiny thumb.

He finished marking the work of the Second and turned to that of the voluntary Saturday class. At least there was less of that to mark than there had been at first; as he had predicted, many had dropped off for not having known what hard work it was; he was down to twenty-nine, and that divided into two classes with the twelve of the accelerator class pulling well ahead now of the others. Two of the upper sixth, the Terminale, were in it purely to learn voice control; though Babette Weber had started to get more out of it. And he had been able to assure Britt-Marie Naslund of the fourth that if she could control her giggling she would get far more out of chanting than her sister Solveig who wanted it purely to aid her chosen career as an actress. Britt had brightened and gave him a grateful smile. She would never be the sharpest stick in the bundle; but a good solid ability with chanting would get her success where she might fail for the lack of ability to come up with a spell. Darryl could not really blame Solveig for exploiting him; she too was rather dim beyond her ability to act and was tipped to get no more than an 'E' and two 'A's at ELF. Sometimes Darryl rather forgot that even this was above the average qualification in any country.

He had to admit that the numbers had also dropped for the two he had excluded; one boy in the fourth year for continuously spiteful remarks and another in the fifth who was such an inveterate gossip that he was busy trying to pass on his current gems when Darryl was trying to speak and whom he banned after a couple of warnings as a time waster. He would have less ability to ban members of the class when he was teaching a free school and some of them might be stroppier; but they would be in school because they wanted to learn and he might point that out to them, that the Ancient Runes which he would then be teaching might not seem important at low levels but would give them the basics for so many exciting things.

Darryl would be busy every lunch time; for he had designated Tuesday and Thursday as extra Arithmancy, on the basis of a drop-in class, that he would give some taught lessons of subjects that mystified the majority and also be available to help out those who wanted problems they were having explaining. He could then set problems to solve to most and work individually with those who needed it. And Friday evenings would be devoted to those who needed to start with basics and work all through like Pharamond. Several pupils were writing home to ask for Arithmancy text books!

On Thursday, M. and Mme D'Aubert arrived and an elf asked Darryl to go to the Head's office.

He found that they had been trying to explain in a rather muddled fashion and Olympe demanded to know what was going on.

"It's all perfectly simple" said Darryl, managing not to conclude a 'Where Eagles Dare' quote with the word 'major'. "Miss Vivienne D'Aubert came to school with a cruel streak that I have disciplined before I realised that it seemed unnatural; and spoke therefore to her brother. It seemed pointless to approach you until or unless it was ascertained that the child be under a curse to act in an intolerable fashion; you have yourself had her reported to you by most of the staff I think, and the elves have withdrawn good will from her. A normal child would have started to learn; but the poor child is NOT normal. And because she had, through circumstances, been somewhat spoilt already, her aberrant behaviour noticed less. M and Mme D'Aubert have brought the cursed item that has done the damage in the hopes that I might be knowledgeable enough to cure her. If I am not I shall recommend that they take her immediately and without delay to Severus Snape who is the world's greatest curse breaker. With the full co-operation of her entire family however it may well be that I am able to at least begin a process that Severus can continue. It beats two years in hospital as happened to the little brother of one of my best friends, because English hospitals are reactionary and old fashioned and take no account of chanting, unlike the hospitals of France who are forward thinking and advanced and an inspiration to the English healer who has set up a teaching hospital in Germany associated with the free school there."

"This is the book, M. Zabini" said Mme D'Aubert.

Darryl flicked through it.

"Merlin's ingrowing toenails!" he gasped "Yes; assuredly this is the book; and I young enough too that there is some allure to me, though I am both old enough and strong willed enough to overcome it."

"It's horribly fascinating, isn't it?" said M. D'Aubert. "I can't think how we missed it."

"Probably has repelling spells on the casual glance of grown ups" said Darryl. "I need to read this from cover to cover; and I would be much obliged if you will interrupt me every page or two and ask me how I am. If I get angry or obstreperous, contact Severus immediately; I don't think it's going to happen because I am extremely self aware. But just in case."

He read, and returned fair answer to each interruption save once asking them to check in again in two minutes as he absorbed one complex paragraph. When he had finished he nodded.

"Very well; here's the big test of whether it has touched me" he said; and threw the thing onto Madam Maxime's fire. It screamed thinly. "Apparently not" he said, in satisfaction as he watched inexorably for it to burn. "May I have Viridian and Vivienne up here, Madam Maxime?"

"Certainly Darryl; I have often wondered how you chanters work. And to save this poor child from evil, I will do anything" said Olympe.

Vivienne arrived rather sulkily, wondering what she was in trouble for now; and was surprised to see her parents.

"Am I to be sent home?" she said hopefully "Then I may just read and learn that way!"

"Sit down Vivienne" said Darryl; it was too serious a business to grin but he could not help thinking of Major Von Harpen saying 'sit DOWN Colonel!'.

Vivienne sat; and Darryl lifted her chin to gaze into her eyes. She cried out in real terror; she feared Darryl. Her mother started forward to be restrained by both husband and son.

Darryl started singing; and what he sang was a lullaby of the nursery. Vivienne's eyes drooped. Darryl wanted her in a half stupor, not fighting him nor too frightened. It would be as a nightmare what he was about to do; but one that was only partially experienced. He needed her sufficiently aware to know what he was doing but did not need her fully conscious.

"If you will permit it, I can get better results with my more advanced students holding a basic chant and rhythm for me" he said quietly to her parents. "I have used legilimensy and I can undo the cursed bonds of compulsion on her but I can do it better with backup."

"Whatever you need" said M. D'Aubert.

Darryl turned to Viridian.

"Fetch those advanced chanters you feel comfortable about having near your sister" he said,

This turned out to be just five of them; the three musketeers, Viridian himself, and Philomène.

Darryl nodded.

"I want you to choose in consultation three harmless nursery rhymes that you all know and keep repeating them one after another in a loose circle about me, concentrating on the concept of happy childhood, friendship and fellowship. If you have any playing together sort of rhymes in France, they would be most appropriate; I only know English ones like 'boys and girls come out to play' and 'Brooms fly together'.

"We'll do that" said Pharamond "Reckon my nanny knew every rhyme in France."

After a quick consultation the little group nodded; and Darryl let them get started as he began a more complex chant in Latin, it being a language of power, to counter specifically all the dark spells laid in the book. And he peeled them off, layer by layer, almost laughing at some of the crudities; then sobered as he realised that to most people these were not crude but subtle, that he had had the advantage of being trained by the most subtle wizard the modern world at least had probably ever known; who was able to speak of the subtle compulsions of Voldemort as somewhat brute force compared to what he now knew. The true subtleties of magic could only ever, thought Darryl in a moment of revelation, be known to a true potioneer or a true chanter; and any witch or wizard who was both had a degree of subtlety at their fingertips that was probably outside the ken of almost anyone else; and that one might even perform the most subtle magic of all in having a potion that suffused the veins and was only activated by chanting. He must talk to Severus about that one. Meantime he stripped the layers away and brought the child closer to consciousness with each layer he pulled. His helpers sounded rather puffed and a little ragged and desperate; but determined. They were doing well. He motioned with his hand that they might drop the volume and tail off as he approached the final climax of the chant; and absently enchanted the lilies on the Head's desk to play a counterpoint to the chant that had become song; and finished on a piercingly clear high note at the limit of his range held for a long fifteen seconds.

He looked down at the little girl.

"Well Vivienne, I hope you feel a bit better now" he said "I am sorry I have been harsh with you; until your behaviour was confirmed as due to a curse, the staff had little choice but to react to the behaviour. A bit scared are you?"

Vivienne nodded.

"Yes Professor" she said "Was it REALLY the whispers from the book that made me act in a way that made people hate me?"

"It was" said Darryl "And fortunately for you I remembered that it had happened to another little boy whose brother I know rather well. You shouldn't get any more urges to hurt people; if you do you must tell your parents or, when you are at a different school, your new headmaster. You're to go somewhere where the head is an expert in curses to watch out for any; but in my professional opinion you should have the rest of this term home with your parents. They will, I'm sure, read through your text books for a couple of hours each day with you so you don't fall behind; nicer than going back to a class of children who may not understand and might pick on you, hmm?"

"Yes sir" said Vivienne "I – they put things in my bed but I think I see why now. But it's not nice and I've been miserable!"

"Of course you have" said Darryl "Nobody likes behaving badly, not deep down where it counts, even when you pretend to yourself that you don't care about THEM and you enjoy getting back. Now I only had the excuse that I was badly brought up; and I had to get over that the long way by growing up. You have a reason, not merely an excuse for YOUR behaviour and you should find it easier to be nicer to people. And I wish you the best of luck. Will you shake my hand and put the past behind you?"

Vivienne shyly shook his hand.

"Th-thank you" she said.

"It won't always be easy; because there isn't the easy path of asking the book for advice; and how lucky you are it got left out of your kit" said Darryl.

"Where is it?" asked Vivienne.

"I burned it" said Darryl.

Her face worked slightly; then she heaved a sigh of relief and burst into tears.

"I don't have to see it again!" she cried.

Darryl motioned for her mother to go to her and nodded to his chanters.

"Nicely done" he said "How long was that?"

"We were on the job nearly two hours" said Pharamond dryly. They were all sipping pumpkin juice Madam Maxime had summoned.

"And oh please professor I have peed in my pants" whispered Philomène embarrassed. "And I don't dare move!"

Darryl smiled at her and flicked a surreptitious wand to clean and dry her.

"Then you are the bravest of all" he whispered back.

She smiled tremulously at him.

Oh dear, thought Darryl, she's about to have a crush on me. Well when she's blooded, either it will be right and Mimi will decide; or she'll find someone who suits her better.

"I must say you've performed more than is called on you to do at OWL" said Darryl "And I am impressed and rather guilty that I dumped so hard a first true task on you. It was complex; not so much difficult as many layered and reiterated. And I'm keeping you younger ones out of bed and if I've stolen you from prep I shall write excuse notes for you to the requisite teachers and apologise grovellingly to them in the staffroom too."

"That's appreciated sir" said Jean-Luc "Abelard and I have Potions tomorrow and M. Cuiliere is not tolerant of excuses."

"I'll go see him right away" said Darryl. "Anyone else?"

"It's only history for us" said Viridian "And if I look winsome at M. Tisserand he'll let us both off; 'cos he can hardly let me off and not Philly too."

"I don't want to know" said Darryl "I'll see him too. Pharamond?"

"I've a free period first thing; I only have a Herbology essay to write on dung" he said.

"Well so long as you don't find yourself up to the neck in it" quipped Darryl. Pharamond grinned cheerfully!

xxx

"Amédé, as a potioneer you of all people appreciate subtle, right?" said Darryl.

"Naturally. Why, what subtlety do you need?" asked the potions professor.

"It's more past tense; that repellent D'Aubert child in the Sixieme was cursed by a cursed book; I had asked her brother to contact their parents because I thought I recognised the symptoms. They turned up with the book and I had to chant a cure only I needed a little low-grade help and I er, borrowed those chanters Viridian picked; including two of your Premier potions students" said Darryl "So I've come to grovel because I took two hours of their homework time and they may not be properly prepared for you tomorrow for which it is my fault not theirs and I duly and appropriately apologise and heap ashes on my head for you."

"Chanting takes a time then?"

"It can do; as with potioneering. Even as an antidote deals layer by layer with a blended poison, the reason Golapott tells us that it must be greater than the sum of the parts as each part is neutralised separately, so chanting deals layer by layer with a curse and needs to be more complex and subtle than the original curse. Having a counterpoint was effectively the equivalent of having a slowing agent and general panacea inside a blended antidote; helpful to decrease and control the adverse effects I was fighting."

"Fascinating; I had no idea there were so many parallels" said Cuiliere. "Who else do you have to grovel to?"

Darryl pulled a face.

"Homere Tisserand" he said without enthusiasm.

"Ah; embarrassing" said Amédé Cuiliere. "Still, Viridian is a favourite of his; tell him you had to help out his favourite and he may not sulk. I forgive freely because those two and Lien-le Tranh and Natalie Villars have been telling me how chanting can improve potioneering ingredients and overcome difficulties of herbs pulled at inauspicious times. I shall give them an extension on their homework and if that takes their Saturday class from you are we quits?"

"Fair enough under the circumstances" said Darryl who knew fine well that the two boys would probably make time at some other time, and would forgo the morning run instead and write early in the morning. They were, after all, fitter for the runs and capable of working longer hours.

He approached Tisserand as Cuiliere suggested by saying abruptly,

"I'm afraid in helping out young Viridian with some family problems I've disrupted the homework of two of your students for tomorrow; I've got to apologise that they are not properly prepared."

"Family problems? I'm surprised Viridian did not come to ME; I would have done everything in my power to help him!"

"Yes; but if it had been in your power to chant out a curse, Olympe would have just paid you extra and would not have had to employ me, would she?" said Darryl shortly "His sister has been under a curse – the reason for her poor behaviour – and their parents were able to visit with the source of the curse. I felt it would be easier with additional secondary chanters and did not realise how long the chant would take. They're grand kids the two who are from the Troisieme; Viridian and Philomène chanted their hearts out. You won't blame them for my needing them so long will you? Because it's not their fault at all."

"I don't; but I do blame you for tiring out children" said Tisserand "If either of them is exhausted in class for your excesses I'll know the reason why."

"You DO know the reason why old boy" said Darryl "Unless you need shorter words to explain it in. Well what YOU think I don't really care about; Viridian is just overjoyed to have a real little sister back and not a cursed monster. And really, you know, that's what's important not where you decide to be a bit of a girl and throw a girly sulk at me. I'm sorry I disrupted your class homework; but not enough to regret having done it."

Tisserand scowled; Darryl's tongue was too clever for him to get the better of him.

Darryl was genuinely regretful that the incident over Pharamond had interrupted what might have been a friendship; Homere was academic and clever and fairly fun-loving too. He was also just a bit of a sulky girl. A shame; but there you were. At least he did not have to cope with the fellow having premenstrual tension too.

xxx

Pharamond and his two friends, plus Philomène and Viridian stayed back after the weekend's chanting.

"These are the ones who wanted to be full marauders and do the blood magic" said Pharamond. "Marc and Stephan might be prepared to work together in the ECC against supremacists but they got horrified about the idea of actually being blood brothers. Stupid if you ask me, because if I've understood it correctly they'd then understand each other the better and learn more tolerance of each other."

"Oh you've understood perfectly" said Darryl "A shame; perhaps they'll grow up enough to change their minds. Still, it was only a mutual love of Harry Potter that had my guardian and his oldest school enemy prepared to share blood; now you'd think they'd been born brothers. But it's no good having any but utterly committed and willing volunteers; and if you lot would like to come along to my room we'll have coffee and cakes – I LIKE the Austrian custom and I can't get used to chocolate in bread – and I'll tell you all the story of the origin of the marauders and we shall do some gentle Arithmancy in working out the best time for the ceremony taking your birth dates and the numerological values of your and my names into account. With so large a group as we now have, picking an arithmantically auspicious time is not actually terribly necessary but it's a good discipline to have and won't hurt your application of Arithmancy albeit at the lowest level."

"Most of us need it only at the lowest level" said Pharamond.

"I can't say I consider Nine terribly efficient" said Darryl "Ah yes, rules of Marauders; openness and equality within; proper discipline without. In this room I am Darryl as in the accelerator class, and I might be forthright about some teachers but outside this room you never heard it. Understood?"

"Yes Darryl" said Pharamond seriously. "We have to be adult in here as marauders and go back to our role as schoolchildren out of it, yes?"

"That sums it up fairly well" said Darryl "And by the way, poor Philomène is going to be all on her own after Yule when Viridian transfers to Prince Peak so I hope you older boys will bear that in mind. I may consider bringing in another layer so you're not on your lonesome as the youngest, Philomène."

"I don't actually mind that much sir – er, Darryl" said Philomène. "I'm a bit of a loner anyway; it's only over this that Viridian and I are feeling our way around a tentative friendship anyhow."

"Well of course once you blood you will never be alone again – because you'll be able to feel the others" said Darryl "And I'll see if I can't arrange for all of you to meet some of the assorted young hooligans who constitute the marauders in various schools. A year at Prince Peak will see you meeting huge numbers of adult marauders who blow in from time to time just because; crumbs, and next year if any of you three older ones go for the Triwizard you'll know immediately by feel which of those from the other schools ARE blooded because their blood will sing. Because those who are the brightest and the best tend to be marauders and that means they tend to be the ones going for things like the Triwizard. It's not done to use the blood bond to help you through it of course; that goes without saying."

"Help you through it? In what way could it?" asked Abelard.

"Any of the blood-bonded can be the focus of power fed by others; any or all. To have the collected focused will of better than two hundred witches and wizards behind you, even though many are juveniles, is I am told heady stuff because you feel like a god and are almost as powerful. It's only been done once or twice and not always by the full group; it is not considered something that it is wise to get used to. Power can seduce and corrupt. The greatest power of an individual is seen of course in the ability to set aside such a joining without regret and go back to normal. One can too draw strength at need; this is a less focussed use of it, just to combat fatigue or wounds. This is what is forbidden for the Triwizard unless your life depends on it and it is then really not done to actually go on and win, but to find a way to drop out. Not that it's ever come to that with anyone. It's really for use in real situations, when you're fighting dark wizards. Jade used it when dealing with the fifty odd inferii that the lich Abaris had created, or rather she had her two relative neophyte protégés be foci to do it. She called on us briefly to help destroy the lich entirely though actually she had it pretty well in hand; but there's being confident in your own abilities and then there's false pride. Nobody actually thinks the less of anyone for calling for a little backup – even asking for people to be a little bit available in case you need them – because sometimes things are tougher than you might expect. Right; tell me your birth dates and we'll get cracking."

They were all busy at calculations when Homere Tisserand knocked at the door, claiming to be borrowing a book; and the look of disgust he threw at pages of arithmantic calculation left Darryl grinning as well as slightly angered that the man had felt he needed to check up on them.

"I hope you have done my essay, Viridian, Philomène" said Tisserand softly.

"Yes sir; we slunk off to the library together this morning" said Viridian.

"And M. Zabini also let us read some of his books to add to it" said Philomène just because it would annoy the history master. Darryl HAD offered the pair the use of his own library which was extensive and had required a sophisticated shrinking charm to pack and bring. And even so did not cover a fraction of the books he owned.

Tisserand gave a brittle smile.

"Good of him" he said.

"Yes sir, wasn't it?" said Philomène brightly.

Darryl waited for the door to shut behind Tisserand – it was not quite a bang – and looked severely at Philomène.

"You are a bad girl" he said.

She smiled brightly at him; and it transformed her face.

"Yes Darryl" she said.

"Crumbs kid, you're quite a looker when you smile!" said Jean-Luc.

"The mighty gentleman with a compliment ready at his fingertips" said Darryl sarcastically "Jean-Luc that is such a damned with faint praise way of putting it I am tempted – yes I SHALL introduce you to the Severus Snape rebuke" and he cuffed the boy on the back of the head with two fingers.

Jean-Luc gave a shamefaced grin.

"Well she does rather hide in a scowl most of the time" he said.

"So would you if you were labelled the 'token part goblin' and made to feel here a bit on sufferance" said Darryl "She isn't; Madam Maxime is keen to open up to those of less than full human blood, though she cannot offend the parents. It is that people pussy-foot around her instead of just treating her as any other little girl. Which now she's to be a marauder she is NOT just any other little girl because she, like all of you, is about to take a step into a larger world and to become extraordinary people. But that has nothing to do with race. When she's your sister you'll understand more."

"Good" said Jean-Luc "I do TRY even so but girls are rather strange beings."

"Thus the greatest truth of all" said Darryl dryly "That girls are more alien than boys of any race; and I presume vice-versa. No don't answer that, Philomène; you have in your hands the fragile egos of five males who prefer not to be told that a girl can fathom easily such simple-minded beings."

Philomène grinned at him!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Darryl had decided that the easiest compromise was to blood his new Marauders in at Halloween; and they nodded in suppressed excitement, and set themselves to concentrate on their lessons without giving too much thought to the exciting ceremony that would make them kin.

Meanwhile Darryl had a letter from Mimi; which outlined a prophecy from young Julian Bode, a modest youth with true seer powers in the fourth. He had spoken of the rising sun seeking the power of the moon, the ibis-headed one and Mimi wrote that Lilith had, of course, delivered a lecture on Djehwty, or Thoth, associated with the moon, magic and so on, whose fabled Book was said to impart great powers but was cursed to kill any who were loved by the magus who read it. As nobody believed that Achille loved anyone but himself he would not see that as a bar. Mimi wrote that her friend and fellow marauder Maud had suggested making a false one, with a difficult and challenging trail to find both it, AND the keys to the many layers of boxes the artefact was said to be stored in. The tomb where it lay might be found with aid of a document planted in a muggle museum and mentioned in a learned article. It would keep Achille occupied or at least tie up some of his abler forces. Darryl laughed and laughed and shared the idea with his disciples.

"And not one of us studying runes in depth to volunteer to help!" said Pharamond, making a rueful face "But I know many people who would be socially connected with Achille; you speak of finding the tomb; if the document was partial – say a broken ostraca of limestone – what if my father or someone of social rank had the second half, making sense of it? That would make another layer of search and also mean that only Achille was likely to have all the clues at his disposal, especially if I could get my father to discuss the article at a party – say one with Lucius Malfoy there because he is famously interested in Ancient Runes – and let one of Achille's spies overhear?"

"Invaluable youth" said Darryl "Perfect! Yes, if your father was WONDERING if his partial ostraca was a part of the other as the shapes looked like they might fit….. brilliant. Write to him; if he's likely to come and take you out for a weekend as many parents seem to here, even better. And then Lucius can liaise with him. It'll be the biggest hoax in the history of the wizarding world; and if we can keep Achille occupied until we are in a position to move against him, the one that saves the most lives."

xxx

Halloween was not celebrated in the rather uproarious way it was in the English schools; or even as Darryl had heard in Durmstrang. It was marked by a decorous ball with refreshments, the younger ones merely joining in the first part of the dancing with country dances, and going to bed after supper while the older ones stayed up to dance more formally.

It sounded confoundedly dull.

Still the dullness was offset by the excitement of his closest disciples preparing themselves for blooding; and discussing the conning of Achille. The idea of having a second part to explain the first had been further built on in having certain instructions mentioned on the first part, with perhaps an inscription to the effect of 'these words are' on the first half, and the second half continuing such a sentence with the continuation 'to be found on such and such a piece of bijouterie' which piece of further frustration had been suggested by the muggle film, 'Bedknobs and Broomsticks' wherein the words for the spell 'substitutiary locomotion' – better known to advanced transfigurationists as 'Piertotum Locomotor' – are mentioned in the first half of the spell book and after a wild search for the rest of the book, the sentence continued 'are said to be found 'on the star of Asteroth''. It should keep Achille busy running around to track a particular amulet to earth. As Prince Neferkaptah, in whose tomb the Book of Thoth was supposed to lay, was more or less legendary Darryl suggested having an inscription carved on a copy of one of the turned stone bowls in the museum of Imhotep, himself half legendary to muggles being mentioned only in two texts and being so ancient that little was known.

Wizards of course knew that Imhotep had been a wizard of considerable power who had also taught muggles how to use their powers of observation and indeed had introduced early technology to mimic some of his magic, perhaps the origins of the fallacy that all muggles used technology to mimic magic even today. Imhotep was a bit of a hero of Severus and his followers for using muggle methods alongside magic, and not despising researching the uses of technology to aid his Pharaoh.

The story covering the Book of Thoth dating from historical times was of Setna, a son of Rameses II, who was said to have discovered the tomb of Neferkaptah and discovered for himself that taking the Book of Thoth was a bad idea, and atoned by having the bodies of Neferkaptah's wife and young son brought to that Prince's tomb. They would need three mummies therefore but that posed no real problem. Darryl grinned to himself that Achille would not think to avail himself of the useful research library that the Marauders used cheerfully; the internet. True there was some dodgy information out there but plenty that could be cross-referenced. And he was being fed the information as those with access to computers got it, and was able to suggest using an artefact of the time of Imhotep to contain a clue of hieroglyphs within a decoration carved on one. As the rest were substantially plain, one with more than a single cartouche would stand out. And it could be a riddle.

Mimi pointed out, when they communicated over this, that it had to be complex enough but not too clever as Achille was not exactly the sharpest stick in the bundle; but as Darryl said, it had to be hard enough not to look suspicious.

It was a delicate balance. And Darryl amused himself with designing a few stelae and inscriptions for the group.

And he was thinking happily about that and was able to smile gently on the proceedings of the Halloween Ball, dancing with the female members of staff and grinning too at the outrage on the part of the fully human fourth years when Pharamond, the school's most eligible bachelor, danced with Philomène. True he also danced with plenty of older girls; but she was the only fourth year with whom he danced, and his two friends equally invited her onto the dance floor. Darryl resolved to watch those who had the most irritated expressions; jealousy brought out the worst in anyone.

xxx

And after the Ball, he led the five chosen to the potions classroom – it was in a semi basement which was as close to being a dungeon as Beauxbatons could manage and he felt comfortable in such – and showed them how to slit their palms and join with him, whispering in Parseltongue,

_sssWe be of one blood, ye and I sss_

The awed looks on the faces of his protégés said it all; and they all embraced with a lack of embarrassment that the French could manage. And Darryl felt in Pharamond the determination to look out for his little quarter-goblin sister when Viridian had moved to Prince Peak after Yule; Darryl hoped that she might transfer some of her hero worship to the older boy. After all if his father had a goblin mistress and he would have been prepared to accept half goblin half siblings there was an acceptance in the family that would make Philomène welcome.

He introduced them to marshmallow cocoa to finish the ritual; and they were of his kindred and it was all good.

xxx

It was hard to adjust to the concept that November was still warm and pleasant and there was no sleet or snow; though the Mistral brought a few what Darryl would term CHILLY days with strong winds, during which the ECC was much truncated, and a few who turned up asked if they would actually be going out in such inclement weather.

"Inclement? It's not inclement, just a little bracing" said Darryl firmly. "You may want a long sleeved shirt over your running gear; though I'm not bothering, it's only eight degrees, well above freezing, and a wind chill factor down to about two, but by the time you're running you won't notice it."

"The English are insane" muttered one of the group.

"Not insane, Chantelle, but used to colder, wetter weather" said Darryl, who had heard "I feel depressed and unready to run in your summer; I have to make myself go out when it's hot. I shall have acclimatised by the really hot months, I hope; but face it, this is the sort of temperature it's possible to get in Scotland on a bad day in summer."

The runners shuddered.

They would not choose to be English even if they were they were as rich as the Malfoys!

Eduard Batonoir ran happily and stoically; because for the first time in his life his ears did not hurt for merely being out in the Mistral and he loved it!

True it came on to drizzle on the way back, but as Darryl said, the joy of hot showers was more poignant for the same.

And the temperature was soon back up to a nice warm sixteen degrees which Darryl found almost unnatural for winter!

xxx

The sudden fear/horror/pain from Lilith, cut off abruptly and her presence in his consciousness only the most tenuous of feelings had Darryl leaping to his feet, the confused new blooded doing likewise at the supper table with cries of horror at the unexplained and barely understood feelings they were feeling.

Darryl linked in to Mimi; and gasped as he read in her jumbled horrified thoughts how a fellow Upper Sixth – Xanthia Fawcett, Darryl recalled the self opinionated Ravenclaw girl – had cast _Evanesco_ on Lilith!

There was little he could do save lend power; Severus was there and he would sort things out. Darryl fervently hoped so anyway!

He turned to Madam Maxime.

"A little experiment with some of my keener chanters to make quillfriends in England with a limited telepathic contact has shown us that there is a little bit of trouble in Hogwarts; a senior is bullying a popular junior and many people are irritated by it."

He synchronised his heartbeat with the rest of the bloodgroup who were in Hogwarts as they chanted; there were plenty of them, he would be more use feeding power. His own followers gave him a startled look and joined their own heartbeats to aid his. In so large a hall the sound of six hearts beating as one would not notice. He could feed impressions to them in a limited fashion as – powers, as they sent another child to find her? Darryl swallowed another gasp.

"It is perhaps a mistake to set up telepathic contact in case any accuse the chanters of cheating" said Nine Napier.

"That's why the experiment is conducted only with volunteers from non exam classes" said Darryl, lying smoothly; it was a fortunate coincidence that his five chosen ones were NOT from exam years "A temporary measure to discover what potential pen friends are like by way of being a practical use of an obscure ritual undertaken in concert with my counterpart in Hogwarts. The art of chanting is expanding all the time; in due course this is something that will be of use to Aurors. It is a simple matter to place a line of thought exclusion about an exam hall to preclude any unscrupulous child from using such to cheat; indeed it is perhaps a safeguard that might be undertaken anyhow since there are more means than chanting to set up telepathic links."

Darryl reflected he would have to write to Tony Queach and mention that they had jointly encouraged such an experiment. And he may as well set up the sort of line that would preclude normal telepathy; it WOULD prevent the more mundane forms of magical cheating.

And since several of the oldest in the school looked horrified at his suggestion some of them had already come up with ways to do so.

"Eh Bien, an excellent idea" said Olympe Maxime, also eyeing those older ones with disfavour. Darryl was glad that none of them were among his chanters!

Lilith was now returned; and he was feeding aid for her with the pain….. some kind of growths from the rubbish, growing into her poor little body….. yes, they could remove them; he could feed directly to Severus to help with that. And it was essentially over, his own children were relaxing.

He must smile and chatter with the staff on the staff table and eat – every feeling revolted against eating with such an awful thing – not let them know. These French were not of the phlegmatic types the English staff were; and not all the English staff knew for certain about the Blood Group. And those that did had seen it in operation saving Harry Potter; and that made a difference.

At last the horrid meal was over and they might leave.

"You went ahead then" said Olympe Maxime "What in truth was happening?"

Darryl told her quickly, quietly. She blanched.

"And with so many joined thus she was rescued? Saved? Nom d'un nom! I do not sanction but I accept…. They have had a baptism of fire into the group; take them with you and feed them sweet milky coffee!"

Darryl fully intended to, and smiled his gratitude at her acceptance of the fait accompli and the children's needs. Even the older ones here were still children!

He sat his five marauders down and explained what had happened.

"It was scary getting only pain and fear and no reasons" said Philomène.

"Yes; in the holidays I hope that Pharamond will invite you all to his house for a party, wherein you will meet sundry others if also he invites a few Malfoys and appropriate friends to blood with more" said Darryl "Using you shamefully I'm afraid old man."

Pharamond grinned.

"Oh Abelard and Jean-Luc usually come over for a part of the holidays; and we shall need that party to discuss ostraca, shan't we? I'm glad the kid's all right; like Philomène said, the not knowing what was going on was the worst. I felt half inclined to use the apportation I KNOW I can do and go there, but that would have been ill disciplined and I know that foolish impulsiveness is a fault of mine. You were just willing us to stay put, weren't you?"

"I was" said Darryl "And well done to you; especially as the feeling of panic washed every damn member of the group, not just those who were there or the more er, effervescent ones. Even Severus had a moment of panic; Lilith IS his daughter after all. His oldest actual child as it happens, though he loves all his adopted children. But Lilith's survival was ever in question; as his wife was pregnant in the Voldemort years and was born early because of a certain accident, so she is especially dear to him."

"Eh bien, she is a survivor!" cried Philomène "And we shall too all love her because she has shown us that with love, anything is possible!"

"The most profound point anyone can make" said Darryl. "Love is the oldest and strongest magic; and should be treated with great respect. I'll ask Lucius to arrange with Severus that she's one of the random brats he sends over at Yule to meet you all if you like; Lilith is near the centre of the great Hieroglyph Con because she's so good at Hieroglyphs; and she's already pulled a jape similar to give some comeuppance to a few stuck up elders of hers in Hogwarts – the girl who vanished her being one of them. There's history between them. I'm getting confirmation from the rest in Hogwarts that they consider her insane rather than evil; she will have to be confined but I think in a mental ward not a prison."

"They are very forgiving" said Viridian "I do not think I could forgive any who did that to my little sister."

"Ah, but Viridian, would you hate someone who is sick enough to stumble and push your little sister under a muggle vehicle? You might for a while, but reason would prevail. I recall despising this girl; but if she cannot even understand that she has done anything wrong, can she be wholly blamed as she has not the intent? I hate the deed and try to understand the doer."

"You are a bigger man than I then Darryl" said Viridian.

"I have had a number of years start on you" said Darryl "And too a number of tribulations of my own which I believe it would do you good to hear; like an insane mother who thinks, I believe, in a similar way to the girl who vanished Lilith; in having no concept of anything but her own will having any validity. My brother, brought up and warped by her, tried to kill me in case I revealed that I knew that my mother had murdered my father; and he too I pity, as I pity my mother. Did I hate them? For a while, yes. But they have never known true happiness or understood true love. Our mother doted on us as possessions; and so she missed out on the true bond between parent and child. How can I feel anything but pity? And thus I can see that this unfortunate girl is of the same kind – and pity her also. If Lilith had died horribly I might not feel so ready to forgive. But she did not so my compassion is not tested. Compassion is the biggest trait in the human psyche; the ability to give second chances, to forgive. I was given a second chance after being an egregious racist; because when I say my father die horribly, I was removed from the scene by the servants, and as a babe not three, I blamed them – elves and a goblin woman – for my distress. I got over it – with the aid of my Mimi. We all have weaknesses. With the aid of our group we can strive to overcome them – as Pharamond overcame the impetuous desire to rush headlong to he knew not where to aid in he knew not what. It's a trait, Pharamond, that you share with Harry Potter" he added.

Pharamond gave a rueful grin.

"Then I'm in good company" he said "And thank you for sharing your tribulations with us; we will try to take on board the message that goes with them. I guess we all felt fighting mad to do something about someone who would hurt the little sister we've never met yet somehow know so well in our blood; but fortunately the sense of not knowing actually WHAT to do for being such neophytes to this blood magic made the more impulsive amongst us pause long enough to get your warning pulse to stay put."

Darryl reflected that if Lilith HAD to get herself Vanished, at least it was before his rabble of Frenchlings learned enough to go unerringly to the spot trouble was happening; and heaved a deep – and inaudible – sigh of relief!

xxx

Meanwhile it appeared that with balls taken as commonplace there was less fuss and palaver over the Yule Ball approaching; but it occurred to Darryl, watching out with disbelieving wonder, that although the French children were less noisy over their fuss about the approaching Ball, there were still just as many undercurrents and as much unpleasantnesses.

Indeed his Marauders consulted him on how best to avoid trouble for Philomène.

"If any of us older ones takes her to the ball, as we're all wealthy and well connected, she so is going to get bullied not just by others in her class but by our age group too" said Jean-Luc "But as Viridian's leaving after Yule he isn't going to be in her class to take care of her. What do you advise?"

Darryl considered.

"Less remark will be made if Viridian takes her so there will be less to need a protector for" he said "And as a marauder, not only can Philomène stand up for herself, you three older ones WILL feel if she is in trouble. I guess it depends on whether any of you older ones feel a partiality of the romantic kind towards her; because if so, then go for it anyway. Draco Malfoy took HIS girlfriend to the ball – proposed to her there, actually –which as she was the quiet, shy type that nasty sly girls like to pick on if they can led to trouble. Gracie, however – she's another of my sisters-in-law elect by the way – had the confidence of knowing that Draco loved her to deal with any small assorted slings and arrows of outrageous teenagers. Alternatively you could all pick other members of the ECC just because. I think Philomène's opinion is most valid here" and he smiled at her.

"I can't go with you, can I Darryl?" she said wistfully.

"It's not very de rigeur" said Darryl "And next year I shan't be here either; and you will REALLY get spite for partnering a professor."

"Then I shall go with Viridian because we're all going to miss him in Prince Peak" said Philomène "Because it wouldn't be fair for him to dance with any other girl who might think he had a partiality for her who would then feel badly when he left. And I love all my brothers and – and I can even say it without feeling daft" she added.

"That's a good and unselfish girl" said Darryl "And an excellent reason for your choice. And next year you might have formed a partiality; and if not, well they will be there until the summer to keep an eye out for you and then YOU will be in the Premier Class, and the most senior Marauder in school; for you may have brought in others by then. I have to say I find the sort of sly spite I observe going on here more disturbing than the more childish and yet usually more harmless tactics in Hogwarts; where the height of slyness is reducing the size of the clothes of a rival."

"Oh that happens here" said Philomène, tossing her hair scornfully "It's the campaigns of whispers that are the worst because it's nothing you can put your finger on."

"If it happens in class or prep" said Darryl "Permit me to teach you all a spell or two that may defeat some of these sly creatures. First, a twist on the sonorous charm to make sure that their words are said out loud for all to hear; its variant so only the caster and selected others – the teacher for example – hears what is said; and a useful little charm to curse a person to tell only the truth. Combined with a babbling charm it can also have rather amusing results to an enemy."

"Eh bien, you know so many curses!" said Pharamond.

Darryl laughed.

"It's a curse all right but would not be considered especially stiff at Hogwarts; though in many ways it is more profound than the bat bogey hex or the jelly legs jinx or the jellied furnunculous curse" he said "Hogwarts children are not supposed to use wands in the corridors but such curses are not called 'corridor curses' for nothing; it hones the skills for fighting in earnest and the rule is mostly to have a reason to leap on real bullies. When I was still a racist and something of a bully and before I taught myself to cast wandlessly and wordlessly I found it mightily frustrating, having drawn wand on some kid I felt despite for only to be jinxed into a ball without wand being drawn because they all belonged to the MSHG which takes duelling to new heights; as I have not dared to do in the ECC yet as you are all such delicate flowers."

"Then we had better learn not to be such delicate flowers, had we not?" said Pharamond, chagrined.

"It would be a good idea if I can start to get serious in the training of some of you at least" said Darryl seriously "I'll introduce the concept of physical means to protect yourselves – useful for dealing with jeering muggles who one cannot of course use wand upon as much as for dealing with those bullies who like to twist arms whilst holding you ready to be wand-burned."

"You know about that? It is covered up usually!" said Philomène, shocked.

"It's a fairly standard tactic of the stupider bully" said Darryl. "Never one I stooped to use even in my worst days, having too much pride to be Neanderthal. Covered up here, is it?"

"Pure bloods of good family can get away with a lot and just get ticked off" said Philomène. "Especially if they do the burning where it doesn't normally show so nobody knows; and the scars on a part goblin don't matter."

"They matter to us" said Darryl, soberly, knowing that his eyes blazed with anger in the same way as his younger brothers' eyes were blazing. "Show us, child; and we shall chant to remove the scars."

Philomène flushed but took off her shirt.

Some of the burn scars were ugly words.

"Ah" said Darryl "Now if I were not a professor I would devise a chant to transfer them to the owner of the wand who did this; but I'm afraid I have to be lawful not just and I have a duty of care to all the children here including egregious little racists. Such goes on in Hogwarts too; Grace was scarred thus on the hands by unpleasant girls and that was when she was brought into the blood group because Draco used his own blood to cure her of the scars. Before he learned chanting. But we can deal with it. We have seen; put back your blouse, because now we can FEEL where the scars are and deal with them without prolonging your embarrassment."

Philomène hastily buttoned her blouse; and Darryl outlined a chant for the boys.

Philomène wept with joy as they chanted; she could feel the pulling that the ugly scars always made start to recede and she knew that when she undressed in the dormitory that night she would no longer feel a need to cringe away to hide the filth that had been a part of her body for so long.

Darryl DID add a twist to bring the wand of the perpetrator to him as he finished the healing chant.

"A professor MAY confiscate a wand" he said cheerfully "And I shall give this into the care of Madam Maxime who may feel she has now more power to act than when you were first here."

"Won't she wonder what you were doing peering at a little girl's chest? All sorts of nasty things might be said" said Pharamond.

"Not if she had told her friend Viridian and he brought her to me as a curse breaker" said Darryl tranquilly. "And I can truthfully say I did not need her to undress to chant over her. I could probably have done it entirely with the revellaspell; but seeing is just easier, and I needed too to know HOW angry I felt" said Darryl. "Would you have rather I had done it with the revellaspell, Philomène?"

"I – I think I'm glad everyone who I'm joined to here knows really how bad it was" said Philomène "Because now I know you still all love me despite that and – and I'd always have wondered. And I know I share something with another sister."

"Two actually" said Darryl "The same girls who were expelled for marking Grace had previously been given warning for plain burns, out of sight in similar places to you, on Willow Prince. Cut along now; you all have work to do and I need to see Madam Maxime."

xxx

"This, Olympe, is the wand that is the culprit of as nasty a piece of bullying as I have ever come across" said Darryl. "Young Philomène told Viridian that she had been wand-burned and he brought her to me as a curse breaker as the scars count as cursed wounds. The revellaspell is a powerful tool in the hands of the skilled; and no little girl should have to go through life with such filthy words as 'gobbo cunt' and 'whore' emblazoned on her breast; especially as, when she starts developing seriously in that region, she'll suffer pain from the scars fairly constantly. She said even so that she could feel them all the time. Such a cruel brat should be expelled."

Olympe shrugged.

"I know of the incident; the school nurse reported it to me. But apart from giving the child involved a dressing down I dared not do anything to her. And I still dare not. Her family are too powerful. I set her to write an apology; and when she refused I could do nothing but keep her in detention nightly for a week. She has been punished for the incident."

"Oh? And a week's detention is nothing, in my mind, to a lifetime's punishment from such scars" said Darryl tightly.

"The nurse did not tell me that they were words; only that the child was burned badly" said Olympe "But what can I do?"

"Over this incident? Perhaps nothing. But others may have remained silent. You should perhaps give out that anyone with burn scars from a bully's wand should report to have them chanted out as they constitute cursed wounds; and if she has done this to more than one child THEN you have the excuse to expel her, because whilst you remain weak and vacillating before the racist families, Olympe, you and other half humans will always be at risk because they will be the ones who prevail" said Darryl in a low, intense voice. "If you truly WANT rights for half humans then you must be as bold as Professors Dumbledore and Snape in standing up for their rights not to be hurt; and for the rights of ALL your pupils not to be hurt. I wager there are plenty of burned kids there, too afraid to buck a wealthy pure-blood to speak up. And that Philomène only came to notice because she was SO badly hurt that she passed out or something and others noticed, or SHE might not have dared to speak."

Olympe flushed.

"I – yes, Darryl you are right" she said "I do not want to train little monsters who will join with the likes of Achille Crouch-Villeneuve. I will make the announcement; and I will keep this wand to compare its idiosyncrasies with the wounds. How did you come by it?"

"I chanted to summon the wand that caused the damage" said Darryl "My chant to heal others can include a chant to link the damage to the wand."

"Excellent" said Olympe.

xxx

There were some four other children who came forward with burn scars; the two part goblin boys in the second year and a little muggleborn girl in the same year, and a quiet child in the third who had been punished for mentioning that goblins and mudbloods had as much right as anyone to an education if they were clever enough to take it. She was dragged along by Chantelle Lebrun, Amelie Lafée and Candide Catogan, the female luminaries of the ECC in the third. Melusine Lafée brought the muggleborn child, Selene Dubois, and Armand Leblanc, the half goblin boy and another ECC member brought the quiet, dreamy quarter goblin Paul as well as himself. The chanters of the third asked if they might watch and learn; and Darryl said they might providing they obtained the permission of their friend who was to be chanted over.

Quiet Juliette wanted the support from the three forceful girls anyway; she found Darryl scary.

And Darryl used the revellaspell to pull up an image of the wounds; not actually words in this case, but when he mentioned this the child broke down and said that she had been threatened that if she said anything she would have 'filthy blood traitor' written on her. Madam Maxime was grim.

Darryl chanted the wounds away; after casting a linking spell to find the culprit wand. Unsurprisingly it was that of the girl who had burned Philomène.

It was also the culprit of the burning of the three younger ones; and Darryl hypothesised that the muggleborn child in the first had so far escaped only because he ran as fag to Pharamond.

Selene Dubois had in fact complained about her initial burning and consequently had some real filth written on her; 'thief' and 'whore' because she said her tormentor said that mudbloods stole power.

"Ah, ignorant of heritance laws as well as nasty" said Darryl "Magical power, like other complex genetic effects, may lurk effectively as hidden genes until a sufficient concentration of genetic factors express through the conjugation of two as it were carriers. Well known in England of course where the deatheaters tried to promulgate similar risible lies. You may tell the name of your tormentor to Madam Maxime my child; something WILL be done."

Armand and Paul too had filthy racist words on them and they too were swiftly healed. Darryl was glad that he had recalled the spell to project such for Madam Maxime to read also; he could have done that to Philomène had he but thought and had not been too upset to think. She was his kindred; and as such clear thought was not always possible over hurt. But Philomène was trusting; and perhaps it WAS as well for the other kindred to see it in stark damage on the flesh to know just what nastiness could occur.

The only ritual left was to set the wand flying to find its owner; a twist of the finding spell and no very difficult feat.

And it was no big surprise to discover that the wand belonged to the girl in Philomène's class that he had set lines for over a racist outburst and who had flounced out of his class before he could exclude her.

He had never even got her name.

She left the same day; and Olympe looked grim.

Darryl touched her on the arm.

"Any governors you can call in who will support you?" he asked "Relatives of Pharamond perhaps, who is as straight as a die and not in the least racist?"

Madam Maxime brightened.

"Mais oui; how clever of you to consider it!" she said "I shall contact the governors forthwith; one will oppose me but the rest will not. If only out of fear of a French Voldemort!"

Darryl was glad. The French on the whole did seem to be quite enlightened – the EDUCATED French he corrected himself, aware that France was, as it had always been, two worlds in one – and were ready to move forward. Since the muggle French revolution the aristocratic of the wizarding world had perforce to keep a low profile; and there was a greater willingness for egalitarian views, aided by the willingness with which the goblin community had sheltered wizards and witches during the Terror. But there were the few, the ones who would like to see a return of a Roi Soleil who would rule downtrodden peasants, goblins and muggles and the clever amongst the French Government knew it and would oppose that with more firmness of purpose than the English ministry had managed; which as the French were normally known for being vacillating was good going.

They had of course the example of Harry Potter and his friends to know that overthrowing a would-be dictator WAS possible.

Darryl sighed.

He and Mimi might have to abandon the others to set up a school in France for those unable to afford Beauxbatons, just to ensure education at all levels. Well if that was the way it needed to be, that was the way it needed to be. And perhaps he would wait until he had Pharamond and friends as his cohorts when THEY had left school to give Seagh and Victor the chance to replace him and Mimi.

After all if they could delay Achille with a puzzle for several years they could afford to wait maybe.

He would discuss it with the others in the holidays.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Pharamond poked a letter in front of Darryl.

"It's a round Robin that I set up as ammunition for Madam Maxime" he said.

The letter read,

"We the undersigned, being of pure blood and therefore having opinions that even the most moronic of high-bred idiots have to take seriously, feel that the bullying of other children for their blood status is a stain upon the honour of us all; and that all racism is too a stain upon our honour for we feel that we are gentlemen and ladies first and our blood status is to us less important than our honour. We consider those who promulgate racist views to be dishonoured and moreover stupid, especially those who denigrate muggleborn without a clue how heritance actually works because they are ignorant as well as stupid. We defy any who would try to rule by blood status."

He had signed it and had collected a selection of signatures from other pure bloods; even Hauvoise Nuitobscur who had dropped out of chanting; and Amyetis Al-Sharu the Assyrian near-princess.

"What, Princess Orinjade signed too?" Darryl was surprised.

"She thinks you're the cleverest and most sane wizard she's ever met and if you consider racism antiquated then it is time to re-evaluate traditional thinking and help to draw her own country into the modern era" said Pharamond. "She's such a cold fish, almost English or I'd consider suggesting we recruit her."

"Talk to her about it" said Darryl "Sound her out."

Pharamond nodded. He was proud of having obtained Amyetis' signature along with all those of pure blood in the ECC and sundry others.

"Will you sign it too, sir?" he asked.

"Damn right I will" said Darryl "None of the other staff are pure blood?"

Pharamond shook his head.

"The odd few near pure; but I wanted to keep it pure bloods to more effectively counter other pure bloods" he said "Jean-Luc and Abelard are collecting the signatures of everyone else who consider racism out of date to append to it."

"A well thought out campaign of public opinion" said Darryl "You're good at this, Pharamond; you might have a great future in politics if you chose it."

Pharamond pulled a face.

"I don't really know what I want to do" he said. "Politics has a dirty side which I fear might interrupt my music if that doesn't sound stupid."

"You and your friends might then wish to discuss teaching alongside my wife and me if we set up a free French school" said Darryl. "And it doesn't sound stupid in the least. I'm not as musical as you by any means; but I can't sing properly if I'm upset, not so it's a real connection to the thrill of losing myself in the song. That's what you mean, isn't it?"

"Oh yes sir! Totally!" said Pharamond, whose level of hero worship went up another notch.

"And don't forget that amusing songs are valid propaganda too" said Darryl.

Pharamond grinned.

"I'll bear THAT in mind!" he said.

Naturally the expelled girl's parents turned up and attempted such tactics as bullying, threatening and otherwise trying to intimidate Madame Maxime.

Olympe sent for Darryl.

"Madame and Monsieur Labelette tell me categorically that their daughter has the right to hurt whomsoever she pleases if she is strong enough to do so" she said "Their opinion is apparently that might makes right."

"Eh bien? Is this so, monsieur, madame?" asked Darryl.

"Absolutely!" snapped the woman "It is the right and pleasure of any who has the class and the power to do as they will to do so."

"I see" said Darryl turning them both into weasels without bothering to resort to wand. "Sort of like that you mean? Because your daughter still has to resort to using a wand, you know, although she's almost fifteen; a disgrace really for anyone who thinks themselves powerful; virtually a squib actually by English standards. And I've noticed she has no ability with non verbal spells either. NOT really powerful; which rather makes a mockery of HER rights because she has to threaten people with grown-ups – you – to be able to bully them effectively. Oh but wait, neither of you has managed to get yourselves free of being a weasel so maybe YOU are not so very powerful either; certainly not powerful enough, if you piss about with Madam Maxime, to resist a ritual sending after the English fashion. But then, ritual is not taught in French schools, at least not beyond the level of the simple enchantments taught in that class. Now" he cycled them into four foot woodlice dangling "I seem to have some ascendancy over you; and I haven't even got to major curses, just a few simple transfigurations. Still, I suppose I had better let you have your go" he released them so they fell with a bump to the floor. "Go on; let me see what might YOU have."

Naturally the might that an infuriated M. Labelette had in mind was the cruciatus curse; and Darryl yawned contemptuously. The entrail expelling curse was negated with a flick of a single finger tip; the cutting spell did not even require so much. Concentrated wand burning spells he laughed outright over and gently blew to reverse the flames. M. Labelette was a little preoccupied. So too was Mme Labelette as she tried to sneak up behind Darryl and found herself neatly bound, tickled and pale lavender.

And Darryl had not yet raised wand nor spoken an incantation. He had been waving his hands gently however while Labelette dealt with the flames because an angry opponent can usually be relied on to do something rash.

And then Labelette shouted the words of the killing curse and green gently washed over Darryl, a scar flared briefly on his forehead, and was gone. He was blocking from Mimi because he knew that the diffusion grid was in place; and he had his pride.

"Dear me" said Darryl mildly "TWO curses you can be imprisoned for and in front of a witness! I should have thought even worshippers of the stinky Roi Soleil would have had more sense than that; Madame Maxime, do you wish to send for aurors?" he absently bound Labelette, disarming him and filling his mouth with soap in the same gesture because his language was not fit for a lady's ears.

"NOOO!" howled Mme Labelette.

"No?" said Darryl "An alternative then? I WILL write an account of this that Madame Maxime will sign; and you will stop badgering her. Moreover I shall enact my own punishment on your husband to a level that will require for its negation the greatest wizard on earth – or the floorboards" he added this for his own amusement in quoting from the Convolvumort sketches of Draco Malfoy – "To wit, Severus Snape. And he will charge you. It does my heart good to know that he will put that money to good use; providing scholarships for goblins, half bred or muggleborn children who deserve education more than your ignorant, stupid, and essentially useless daughter. And because you hold that might makes right you have no room in your ethos to stop me. Since your husband believes that he has the might and the right to use unforgivable curses; which are unforgivable because the wizards in temporal power do not believe ANYONE has the right to use them; so even if you betray your ethos of might making right by complaining, you'd have to explain just WHY I do what I do. Now do watch and learn what might really is, madame; watch and learn what happens when you irritate the English."

He circled Labelette, chanting in Finnish; and the bound figure dwindled and became shriller in his soapy protestations as he became a house elf, his clothes falling away to be replaced by a dish cloth tied about his middle.

Madame Labelette screamed.

"Madame" said Darryl "He is bound to your family as any of your elves might be. And at that he is lucky; since he will not have to perform the self punishment that was once cursed into the race of elves until sundry of us decided to lift that curse for all elves in Europe. He can resent me all he likes without having to bang his head on the floor; because he's also bound to me, as his effective creator" and Darryl snapped his fingers after negating the bonds.

The elf fought with himself but knelt at Darryl's feet.

"Go and get me a glass of water" said Darryl.

With a howl the elf apparated and shortly returned with a glass of water, slopping it as much as he could.

"You spilled it" said Darryl "Shall I order you to lick it up off the floor?"

The elf cringed and hovered, uncertain whether he was to be made to do so, forced by the obedience curse to assume a position where he might readily obey if the order was given.

"My husband! What have you DONE you wicked man?" cried Madame.

"Wicked? But you asserted that might makes right. This makes me right and him weak and so at my mercy" said Darryl. "Consider it an object lesson, Labelette. Do not lick it up; I do not require that. I am not a cruel monster of vanity as are many who own elves. I HOPE you may learn what thoughtless cruelty there is in society and that it may give you a distaste for it and a desire to turn to introducing reforms instead of being a racist bastard. If you do wish to change your life around I will gladly do anything I can to aid you in that; those of us who have been given second chances are always willing to reach out a hand to others. Now go with your wife and reflect; and if you are not man enough to accept that you have been wrong all these years then bear in mind that now I have touched the essence of your being I can do so with ease from any distance should you attempt to wrong the school or any of its staff or pupils or actually manage to cross my path again and get so far as irritating me."

He gave a brief bow to Mme Labelette and a deep one to Olympe.

"You will leave and take your elf with you, Mme Labelette" said Olympe "Unless you feel in need of any further graphic demonstration of my youngest member of staff's ascendancy over you?"

The woman left hurriedly, her cursed husband in tow.

xxx

"You are a terrible young man Dareel" said Olympe.

Darryl bowed.

"Thank you" he said. "That was more or less what you had in mind, wasn't it?"

"I do not know what I had in mind; save that you English are creative in your demonstrations" said Olympe "Of course to avoid paying Severus and ensuring more education to lesser beings she might just leave him as an elf or order him to kill himself to be rid of an embarrassment; and if he is truly an elf he will surely have to do so?"

"I believe removing the compulsion to self punish also means that he could resist an order that is fatally self destructive" said Darryl. "And yet she seemed fond enough of him; why would she wish to kill him?"

"Fond possibly; but not to the extent of permitting him to make a laughing stock of her" said Madam Maxime. "Well, we shall see. He is too tied to you?"

"Yes; for the purpose of the demonstration" said Darryl "Ah; he could make excuse to himself to resist such an order that it must be ratified by his other master. If she does try to kill him I should think I might be able to get through to him better; I'd rather turn a fellow than kill him or have him incarcerated you know. It's not just one enemy down but one friend up as well. And if I can't turn him through this, well at least he should be too scared he'll meet me coming the other way to do anything active for Achille. Unless it makes him hate me personally so much he decides to try to kill me; in which case I shall have no compunction in killing him first and harder" he added cheerfully. "Dammit, we fought Voldemort and Odessa; how so VERY like Achille Crouch-Villeneuve to get in on the act and be a second rate Voldemort to be irritating just when we thought it was all over. Typically noxious of him."

xxx

Darryl hoped the rest of the term might be quiet; but it was not to be.

He was interrupted in his Saturday class by Madame Maxime.

"Dareel, I pray you come quickly; I need you to uncurse a junior" she said.

The junior involved was the unfortunate Auberon Lafée, who was sobbing hysterically in real pain and terror as living filth crawled up his arms, eating and growing into his flesh whilst Amelie Duvall had hysterics and Amédé Cuiliere poured potions onto the boy's arms to try to discourage the growths.

"Mon Dieu, what happened?" asked Darryl "I need to know to help reverse this."

"He tried to use the cleaning spell, Scourgify you know" sobbed Emilien Perrin "And where his wand was broken all this dirt poured out and – and started EATING him!"

Darryl stared in horror; and he could see the wand that had become a part of the monstrous part of Auberon and was still pouring forth filth from its broken and taped middle.

"I shall stop the exit from the dirt place first" he said and began chanting, hurriedly closing off the open gateway. Next he must stop the advance of the growths; that was easy.

In a way, Lilith's experiences would prove useful here; Mimi had written that they had used ancient Egyptian as an invocation of perfection from the formulaic offering stellae. He chanted,

"Peret kherw en-ka-en Auberon em did Khet nebet nefer wab maat-kheper djet er neh-eh" – a voice offering for the spirit of Auberon giving things everything perfect, pure, truthful his form enduringly for eternity. He repeated it twenty three times, continuing to make that magical number of repetitions tied to the human body though the growths appeared to have all receded and the flesh grown back where it had been eaten into. Auberon was sobbing quietly now in shock.

"Sanatorium for you young man and a sleeping draught from Professor Cuiliere" said Darryl "Brilliant lateral thinking, Amédé; the cleansing fluid kept him alive long enough for me to get here."

"It was the best I could think of" said Amédé as Madam Maxime swept the child up in her big arms to carry like a baby to the school nurse "This chanting is truly powerful. Was that Egyptian?"

"It was" said Darryl "About the best proof there is over how important the study of runes can be. You going to join my Saturday classes then? You can improve potion ingredients too."

"You can? I suppose I should have asked more questions as Severus Snape rates it so highly."

"You can cheer up wilted plants, revitalise ingredients that have started to lose their efficacy and even make some adjustment over ingredients gathered at any time other than the optimal" said Darryl.

"Well then, I believe I may well be joining you" said Amédé "Let me have some theory notes, will you old man? I'd hate to start as an absolute beginner in front of the brats."

"I'll put in half an hour every evening with you as well if you like" said Darryl "Which gives you a week to catch up; I see no reason that a dedicated scholar should not come almost as far in that week as the less advanced ones have to date. I have two classes now; and in a few weeks of extra study you might wish to join the accelerator class in three lunch hours in addition to the Saturday."

"They are gluttons for punishment!" said Amédé "But then, if they have seen what it can do it is great incentive. What made you pick ancient Egyptian?"

"It's been used successfully before on a similar accident" said Darryl "So rather than get creative in such an emergency I fell back on someone else's tried and tested creativity. I'm not too proud to use the ideas of others. WHEN will these kids EVER learn that taping broken wands with spellotape and expecting them to work is a really bad idea?"

"About the time Hell freezes over so they can't accidentally invoke it" said Amédé dryly.

xxx

Auberon was out of the hospital wing by Sunday afternoon and came to say a shy thank you to Darryl.

Darryl ruffled his hair.

"Think nothing of it kiddy" he said "But DO learn not to use a taped-together wand, won't you?"

"Oh sir, I didn't know what to do; it's the second wand I've broken and my parents aren't so well off they can afford to keep replacing it."

"Well laddie, you know there are two answers to that, don't you?" said Darryl.

"What are they sir?" Auberon was wide eyed and worshipful.

"One; learn not to be careless over the disposition of your wand so as not to break it. Two; learn to cast wandlessly as the English do, just in case. And as you are part fey you should actually have an advantage with that over any pure bred human child" added Darryl.

"Oh sir, is it possible when I am so young?" asked Auberon, breathlessly.

"When you start to use magic at six or seven years old, you do not have a wand" said Darryl "A wand is a focus; a means to magnify your will. If your will is strong enough a wand becomes superfluous; or to be used at extremity when you require extra power."

"Like you barely used your wand during the duel, sir" said Auberon in hero-worshipping awe.

"Exactly" said Darryl "So if you and your friends – Emilien and that little girl Melisande and the Belgian twins practice, you might even find that you get picked one day to be the next level of Marauders in the school."

He explained the principles of Marauding, which Auberon drank up eagerly.

Well if the middle school did not provide any Marauders, Philomène would at least have some recruits amongst these little ones; and probably the boy's two sisters at that.

"You might want to pass this on to your sisters and see if they have any friends who would also like to learn" he said.

"Oh I shall sir!" said Auberon.

This must be how Severus had felt when they first set up the Blood Group in Hogwarts, surrounded by adoring puppies.

Ah well, it was a start.

xxx

Auberon had not been included on the original list of those Pharamond had thought likely to be marauder material; but this occurrence had given him the courage to want to learn and do more. And as well as his own cronies he brought to Darryl his two sisters and those of their friends who might wish also to Maraud if the Professor would only explain it properly.

Darryl hid a grin that those attending were in fact those Pharamond had guessed at; Amelie Lafée's two friends Chantelle and Candide; and with Melusine, the half goblin boy Armand. The other part goblin boy in that year was too quiet and dreamy a lad to want an active role; but these two would undoubtedly protect him and others in need of it, as they protected the muggleborn child who had been wand-burned, and as Amelie and cronies had brought forward the girl in THEIR year.

Darryl explained Marauding once again; and hinted vaguely at the blood pact to give them a chance to get used to it. He was hoping that the older ones at least might be brought in by Pharamond, Jean-Luc and Abelard next year.

"It is right that the strong should protect the weak" said Chantelle. "There is no bar on girls?"

"None whatsoever" said Darryl "It is, after all, an English organisation; and the English do not hold the contention that girls are in any way made of sugar that they melt easily. Besides, it is so far a fact that marauders marry marauders; because only other marauders can appreciate their dedication."

"That makes sense" said Candide. "When can we begin?"

"Whenever you choose to mould yourselves together as a group and start actively opposing unfairness" said Darryl "I suggest you sisters and the friends from your two years form a single group; tough on Armand to be the only boy but that is the way it goes sometimes. Auberon and group have only one girl; but it's hard to do a swap with too many years lying between you."

"How do we differentiate ourselves one group from another?" asked Armand.

"Well, the First French Marauders are Pharamond, Jean-Luc, Abelard, Philomène and – until he goes on to Prince Peak after Yule – Viridian" said Darryl "With two fey members I suggest you be the Fey Marauders; and the youngest of you the Beaux Marauders because you're all good looking and too it is a link to my fiancée's group who are the Belle Marauders as their loudest member is called Bella and they are all girls. These things can change but if you expect me to be more creative than that halfway through the second half of the term, you are mistaken."

They laughed; and accepted the names.

"We should get another older boy" laughed Chantelle "So we are four girls to go to the ball next year with four boys; because Philomène will go with one and that will leave one of us spare."

"The Ball is a foolish waste of time" said Candide.

"But Balls are becoming more common as ways to meet people" said Amelie.

"Ah, I have some information to impart on THAT point" said Darryl, who had been doing a lot of reading. "The original Roi Soleil, the muggle Louis XIV, used Balls as a political weapon. He held frequent balls to make sure his courtiers were thinking of nothing but trivialities and thus controlled them; if they were attending balls he knew where they were; and they had to concentrate on their dancing because if they could not hack it they were laughing stocks and nothing they said had any importance to anyone."

"Are muggles so stupid as to be fooled by such?" asked Candide "I had not thought so."

"Not muggles, dear child; but PEOPLE" said Darryl "Such measures introduced subtly – an increase in the number of balls, the praising of those who perform well and nepotism attaching to that, the odd comment that so ungainly a creature as cannot even perform a foxtrot with skill probably cannot co-ordinate his brain either – and thus are such measures introduced. Achille calls himself the Sun King; no doubt he too can read and though he despises muggles may yet use their more cunning ideas. It was an idea introduced by one Cardinal Mazarin incidentally; a great statesman and wholly unscrupulous. While people can be persuaded into caring about trivialities only, whole freedoms can be usurped and eroded. How many French newspapers have true news and in how many of those does it come AFTER the fashion photo on the front cover and discussions of the peccadilloes of those in society and what the best dressed witch is wearing this week?"

They looked thoughtful.

"But then that is iniquitous for the papers are in league with this Achille!" burst out Candide.

"Oh not necessarily" said Darryl "They are probably all unconscious of doing his work for him; a suggestion dropped here or there by the odd powerful man over what sells and what does not…. That is all it takes. Remember, for evil to flourish, all it takes is for good men to remain silent."

"Well we SHAN'T remain silent" said Amelie. "Next year it is the Triwizard again; and we shall then be the same age Harry Potter was when he won the Triwizard, so as well as trying to get our names in, we shall, if Beauxbatons hosts it, talk to reporters about Achille and how he is a disgrace to France."

"And I fear, my children, you may be ridiculed as Harry was ridiculed when he tried to warn reporters in HIS fourth year that Voldemort was dangerous" sighed Darryl "Speak instead of solidarity and race being no issue because Racism is antiquated and not á la môde. Praise Madame Maxime for showing the rest of you that there is no academic difference between you and those of part human blood and suggest that in which case full blood goblins should also be given the chance to shine. That beings are beings regardless of race."

"We SHALL sir!" said Amelie fervently. "And by the way I think our group might consider being the Champagne Marauders because Candide comes from the Champagne region and I think Armand is not far from there, Chantelle bubbles like Champagne and Melusine and I have hair the colour of Champagne."

The others gave a cry of delight.

"Ah yes, perfect!" said Candide.

The Champagne Marauders they were to be.

xxx

Having a continuation of Marauders ready to Maraud in Beauxbatons made Darryl more comfortable; Pharamond would have followers in his branch, which effectively this was. And there would be a group in place ready to accept suggestions and orders from other marauders when or if the time came, simply because they were other marauders; especially when they were blooded and their bloodsong meant they would not question. Or rather, that they would accept instructions and ask why later. Marauders did not follow unquestioningly like brainwashed deatheaters but knew when was a good time to save their questions for later.

xxx

The rest of the term went smoothly; Amédé Cuiliere picked up the basics of chanting quickly and with grim determination not to be shown up by pupils; and was soon working on his own, as he preferred, with tutorials from Darryl. Darryl himself had to set an end of term exam for the youngest; and was busy sighing over such returned answers as 'a chant differs from an enchantment because it's longer and you have to make it up yourself' and 'the poetry form matters for a chant because different poetry means different stuff' and 'people write poetry to torture children by having to read it but some of it is useful for chanting if you can figure out the weird rules that make any one piece useful or not' in addition to the more able answers along the lines of 'the difference between chanting and enchanting is that enchanting uses formula chants to tie in spells whereas chanting has the flexibility to pull of any effect you want on the fly'.

The practical exam he arranged to be undertaken by the whole chanting class more as a demonstration than as an exam – as he said, at the youngest level theory counted for more anyway – split into parts to add counterpoint, the more musical adding a harmony to what was effectively approximately plainsong; which as the chanting reached its crescendo showered the rest of the school with scented petals that changed in nature and scent as the chant changed, starting with jasmine, through lily-of-the-valley, to apple blossom, rose petals and finishing with orange blossom.

It was the seniors who contrived most of the effects but it enchanted the smaller ones to be too a part of such a graphic demonstration of their powers and to hear the admiring gasps from the rest of the school.

Madam Maxime asked Darryl if he and his senior chanters would decorate the ball room with such delicate and pretty effects; and Darryl readily agreed and called for volunteers.

Because the winters here did not involve snow, Darryl proceeded to make a winter fairyland – without the cold – where icicles gently jangled musically in soft breezes and snow fell and vanished, with the scent of pine forests in it. He did not go so far as Lydia had done at Hogwarts in making a frozen lake to skate on; he doubted that any of the French children could skate. Instead he made a snowy clearing where the mock snow would crunch satisfyingly under dancing feet without becoming slippery – which was a challenging little chant of itself – and the sound of Christmas bells chimed in a fairy carillon somewhere in the indefinable distance. A great Yule log burned without being consumed with magical flames and illusory deer slipped through the illusory forest. He and his seniors enjoyed themselves, giving every fantasy and tradition free rein, producing a winter wonderland that Bing Crosby would have been proud of.

xxx

The ball commenced and unlike English school balls proceeded as though in perfect harmony; all the tensions and jealousies seething away under the surface instead and, thought Darryl, for being driven deeper, more likely to surface and erupt into nastiness of a really spiteful nature later in the year rather than being over before Christmas in a blazing row. Still, that was the way they did it here; and he should be on hand to pick up such pieces as he might if any of his protégés were involved in being the targets of such nastiness.

He had to admit that the ball gowns of both boys and girls were in the main more elegant than those of their English counterparts; though Krait's sewing lessons had prevented there being quite so many ill-dressed children at Hogwarts since a succession of Snape girls led the sewing classes in Krait's stead. The Prince Peak children were for the most part wealthy enough to buy new, up-to-date ball gowns, though even so fashionable did not always mean chic. The French children certainly knew what chic was; and that was the one thing that perhaps was on the plus side for the French way of running balls. Even those of the poorest had smart or pretty robes, sewn by themselves or their mothers or sisters; as he had found in Austria where most girls sewed exquisitely, so too did many French girls. And Darryl appreciated the skill since he had learned to sew as a defence against being a bachelor for a year so he could at least effect reasonable repairs on his own clothing without having to resort to the rather haphazard sewing spells. As Krait had said, most spells got invented by wizards and most wizards, being men, had not the first clue about mending with a needle. As she backed up her diatribe with arithmantic calculations on the mending spells and their inherent inefficiency there was not a lot of argument a mere male could put to it, so Darryl had put up, shut up, and learned to sew properly.

His own ball gown, because he felt like being flamboyant in an understated way was in shot satin, black weft on an orange warp; and it was trimmed with silver and amber embroidery on black velvet ribbon. He further enhanced his costume with an amber and silver pin and a single silver and amber earring, both pieces of jewellery being intertwined snakes, one amber and one silver. His shoulder length hair, more wavy than curly for the Polynesian ancestry he bore, he caught back with a black velvet bow. The colours brought out amber lights in his eyes; and Darryl was well pleased with himself.

Half the older girls thought he looked good enough to eat, and a few, greatly daring and giggling wildly egged on some of their number to ask him to dance.

"Only if any of you can tango" said Darryl. "Or rock and roll or the pavane."

He knew he was safe; Madame Maxime did not permit the tango as a general rule; and he doubted any of them even had heard of rock and roll dancing let alone knew how to do it. And the Pavane was so out of date that few would have heard of that either.

It was the easy way out; and the girls retired disappointed.

Darryl satisfied HIS love of dancing by bowing to Olympe Maxime to lead her onto the floor where she danced with surprising lightness for so large a woman. They made a striking pair.

"Sir, you said you only knew the tango and er the other two" said an injured senior to him as he kissed Olympe's hand with a flourish after a stunning quickstep.

"No I did not; I said I would only dance with a pupil who knew one of the three exemplars I gave" said Darryl. "NOT that they were the only dances I knew. Dear me, what is the world coming to when even young adults do not listen carefully to what is SAID not what they think is MEANT? By such sloppy thinking and carelessness you might all yet get yourselves ensnared by the careful verbal traps of the likes of Achille."

He said THAT for effect and to make the older ones think before they embarked – as in two short terms they would embark – on their careers in the wicked world.

And it made an impact on some at least.

Which meant that he was doing his job properly.

Darryl smiled to himself and went to dance once more with the headmistress, unaware that at least one maiden was declaring that her heart was broken by his callous disregard for her partiality. The drama queen in question had a quite easily healed heart for she had declared it broken often before so nobody took much notice.

Darryl did feel that the rather pedestrian orchestra to dance to fell a little flat after his efforts but nobody else seemed to notice.

Perhaps it was a peculiarity of Hogwarts to invite rock bands to perform.

Ah well!

Soon he would be in his Mimi's arms for the Yule break; and they would dance again at Bella Black's wedding to Assim Khan, the wedding at Yule not in the summer so that the married couple might withdraw to India as soon as Bella's exams were over to set up the new school there, Ellie Devlin Fraser taking the junior classes in Comparative Magic until the end of term as well as being the new teacher from the next year. Darryl would have happily married Mimi whenever she wanted if Bella and her team had decided to have a five-fold wedding; but Narcissa Malfoy decreed that they should form the Weddings of the Year in summer, with Bella and Assim taking time out to attend.

And knowing Bella, with a selection of Indian orphan protégés in tow too, thought Darryl!

Well he wished her joy of the heat of India; the South of France was bad enough where one might wear short sleeves on the last day of the winter term.

Even if he was the only one wearing short sleeves!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

As soon as Darryl was back in Prince Peak for the Yule holiday, Mimi had her arms around him, kissing him fiercely. Darryl responded in kind. He had missed her, perhaps more than when they were both school children and were doing the same sort of thing every day. A teacher had more leisure to sigh for not being with his darling.

Mimi peeled herself away from him without surrendering her hold on his hands.

"So, tell me everything about our new sibkin in Beauxbatons" she said "And tell me just exactly what this Philomène means to you."

"Mimi, she is a dear, and my sister, and in need of protecting and she has a bit of a crush on me – which is hardly surprising under the circumstances" said Darryl. He went on to explain the circumstances.

Severus did NOT eavesdrop; but he caught the gist that Philomène reminded Darryl of Mimi and once he had been away from the school for a year and she had the opportunity to learn more about the other boys in the bloodgroup one might then see; because if it was right, their blood would tell them and if it was not, it would not. Because any girl was going to have a crush on a good looking male who was nice to her and if, as he suspected, that was all it was, out of sight would be out of mind.

"And actually" said Darryl, thoughtfully "I rather fancy that she and Pharamond would suit rather nicely."

This considering of whom Philomène might suit pacified a shaken Mimi somewhat more than any protestations that he had no feelings for her might have done.

Self confident as she was in so many ways, Mimi was still fragile and vulnerable where her love was concerned. Instinctively Darryl realised that, and he kissed her again.

Severus firmly interrupted them as things got a little too intense to ask if they preferred tea or coffee.

Sometimes a man bent on continence needed a little help.

oOoOo

Mimi went with Darryl to meet with Pharamond's father. It was apparent that although there was not the closeness between Mme Duval and M Duval's goblin mistress that there was between the Madams Malfoy that they were fond of each other. The Duvals, primed by Pharamond, turned not a hair at Mimi, though Zena, the goblin woman exclaimed.

"Zut alors! When Pharamond explained that the fey had cursed elves from a form closer in size to goblins, I could not imagine it – now I see you in front of me, it is plain that this is a form of the most natural, fitting your face far better! Suzanne, Armand, will not the elves be more likely to accept livery and freedom if they may see how tall and proud they might be?"

"It took a bit of work" said Mimi "I wear it like an animagus form, though I suppose I've been stupid – as it is a curse, any competent chanter ought to be able to restore it for any elf."

"That's to work towards!" said Pharamond, his eyes sparkling. "Papa, I should like to learn to do that myself as it is OUR responsibility."

"I agree" said M. Duval. "No disrespect to M. Zabini and M'selle Snape, but too it would give our elves the chance to get used to it. Our family owns some half dozen elves, M. Zabini, being on the fringe of true aristocracy, and my wife the younger daughter of a comte."

Darryl bowed beautifully which Suzanne Duval acknowledged with a curtsey even Mimi conceded was a beautiful thing to watch.

"I could however offer a chant to free Mme Zena from barrenness" said Darryl "If that is not too forthright."

Zena gasped and glanced at Duval before both looked at Mme Duval. The lady considered.

"I do not object" she said. "It is only fair that a woman should have the reward of children for being prepared to entertain the exigencies of bedroom activities."

Mimi worked on not giggling.

"I am concerned so far as the size of the baby may be concerned" said M. Duval, who had been trying to come to terms with his women being so frank in front of a stranger. He glanced at Mimi, who curtsied. Her curtsey was also a thing of beauty and won an approving look from Suzanne Duval and a slightly envying one from Zena.

"In truth M. Duval, the anatomy of an elf or half elf is such to permit considerable deformation of the skull at birth, meaning that the fact that I am smaller than a goblin should not cause me birthing problems when I am married" she said "But the key with any birth is the use of birthing potions and midwifery spells to relax the mother as much as possible. I am sure Mme Duval is well versed in such?" she looked at Suzanne Duval.

"I am indeed" said that lady. "It was considered an essential part of a young lady's education in the small school I attended, although we did not enter public examinations as do the pupils of Beauxbatons. My knowledge of both essential potions and the transfigurational spells required are kept up to date also in aiding those of the village who require it as is the duty and privilege of the lady of the manor."

"Ah, noblesse oblige; a concept that has been much forgotten in Germany under the blight that was the Grindelwald years" said Mimi.

Suzanne Duval snorted and managed to do to in a ladylike way with her nose elevated and producing a sound that Mimi could only describe in letters to her friends as 'Phnut!'

"If they ever had it"! she said.

"I – I should like children" said Zena.

"And I should like brothers and sisters!" said Pharamond enthusiastically.

"Then perhaps if M. Zabini will not mind…" said M. Duval, letting the question hang, delicately. How very French, thought Darryl.

"After le diner perhaps?" said Darryl "I should like a little time to consider the form of the chant."

"But certainly!" said M. Duval "I did not dare hope you might perform it today!"

They spoke over the meal of the threat posed by Achille Villeneuve and his quest to be the Roi Soleil; on the morrow Pharamond's blood kin of Beauxbatons were to arrive for a few days, and also Mr Lucius Malfoy and sundry other Marauders to discuss the matter of the big fraud. Darryl was glad to have a chance to outline it first, and Mimi was able to explain, having been in at the inception of the idea, how it was to be carried out, and just how talented her little sister Lilith really was.

Darryl hoped that Mme Duval would take to Philomène too; though he suspected that she wanted to share Zena's children, and once being used to helping in the rearing of half goblin children would not even notice the goblin cast to Philomène's features.

And once the meal was over he shoo'd Pharamond out, inviting Mme Duval to stay, and he and Mimi chanted, circling Zena twenty three times, as their chant moved in line the misplaced ovaries that had been causing her infertility.

"You may not become pregnant right away, Mme Zena" said Darryl "But it is as well to be aware that also you might do so very quickly. Mme Duval will doubtless advise you."

"I will take good care of her" said Mme Duval firmly.

Darryl rather thought that she would. He could understand that part of what passed through Mme Duval's mind that having children with Zena would create a greater tie between Zena and their husband; and that would mean that he was more likely to cleave to Zena rather than pension her off and seek another mistress. Darryl thought that M. Armand Duval loved Zena and would not do that in any case; but there was never as much closeness in an arranged marriage unless the participants were particularly lucky and perhaps Mme Duval did not read her husband well – especially if she were insecure about the way men his age would often pick a much younger mistress. She would find Lucius and his raft of women, all devoted to each other, quite a shock. And he could not blame Mme Duval for wanting to keep the status quo, being used to, and fond of, Zena.

It was apparently quite normal for an aristocratic French wizard to maintain a goblin or part goblin mistress; one who would have no expectations, but whose offspring would be found jobs requiring family loyalty and discretion. It accounted for the relatively large number of part goblins in France, surpassing even those in England where mixed marriages were not unknown, though generally only among the lower classes.

It was typical of the French that there was a saying that declared the face of a woman was not the part of her anatomy that gave her passion.

The next day passed in talks, Lucius doing most of the talking, which was, as Mimi giggled to Darryl, nothing new. Mimi met, and could not fail to take to her heart, Philomène, for whom she firmly requested of Mme Duval lessons in how to pass in society as Philomène was Beauxbatons' first part goblin, and how she fared would showcase or shame those who opposed Achille.

Mme Duval readily rose to the challenge; Philomène would not be feeling out of place in society if Pharamond did come to love her. And if he did not, she would still be ready to take her place in the forefront of the fight.

Mimi and Darryl returned with Lucius to Malfoy Manor for Bella's wedding.

oOoOo

In Malfoy Manor's grounds, Lucius had been persuading the weather to produce a decent sprinkling of snow for picturesque effect – which as Narcissa said was truly sweet but how like Lucius – and just to scotch any unpleasant rumours concerning Bella and Assim, Krait quietly 'went unicorn' for Bella to ride across the grounds on her back, gleaming whiter than the snow. As Mimi said, how like mum Krait to be so practical.

Bella was gowned in flowing white, trimmed with white fur and a cloak trimmed with swansdown around the hood and her black ringlets loose beneath it. She glowed with happiness. Assim was dressed in black and white brocade, in a stylised stripe made of leafy swags with tight white trousers, high boots and a white turban decorated with a ruby pin holding one of the pearlescent white peacock feathers. He looked quite splendid and just exotic enough. Mimi was moved to consider her Darryl in largely white to show off his dark skin, and decided that white was too impractical as Darryl revelled so much in being a family he would be bound to absently pick up one of her little siblings who would find a way to soil it irrevocably. Besides it would never be flamboyant enough for Darryl. Darryl was a very vibrant man. Mimi purred almost as successfully as Bella managed through being a tiger animagus. It was to being an animagus that Bella attributed being laid back about not worrying when cubs might arrive, but Mimi thought it was more like a case of just being Bella. She was perhaps a little jealous that Bella was in the position now to make babies, whether they turned out stripy or not, but her own turn would come. She leaned on Darryl; and Darryl smiled down at her. He was not unaware of some envy of the situation Stripes Khan was in; but then Stripes had been aware of Bella's female scent in a way nobody without a tiger's nose could appreciate for a good deal longer than he, Darryl, and Mimi had been together and Darryl gave Stripes every respect for managing to wait as long as he had.

oOoOo

The family Christmas was as nice as it always was; Darryl blessed his luck that he had been taken under Mimi's loving wing and brought into this wonderful family.

Even it the wonderful family were addicted to playing loud muggle records as an accompaniment to working on hieroglyphs for the suckering of Achille Villeneuve. He had to admit that the lyrics of one of the songs had a lot of symmetry – a song called 'Powerslave' by a group called, Darryl thought, as incongruously as Muggle groups were, Iron Maiden as all of them were male. Doubtless there was a reasonable explanation but he decided not to ask. Lilith might tell him. In the meantime he pondered the lyrics as a possible chant.

_Into the Abyss I'll fall - the eye of Horus  
Into the eyes of the night - watching me go  
Green is the cat's eye that glows -  
In this Temple  
Enter the risen Osiris - risen again.  
x  
Tell me why I had to be a Powerslave  
I don't wanna die, I'm a God,  
Why can't I live on?  
When the Life Giver dies,  
All around is laid waste,  
And in my last hour,  
I'm a Slave to the Power of Death._

The words went on talking about how the living god – a pharaoh – was living a lie, appropriate enough for Achille, and was trapped in eternity in stone, but somehow able to strike from beyond the grave. This was evoking the muggle superstition that there was a curse of the mummy. If the poor fools only knew it, there were things far more dangerous that could be awakened in ancient Egyptian tombs than a nebulous curse!

Darryl felt that so far as any would-be dictator was concerned 'Can I play with Madness' might me more appropriate. He glanced at Lilith as that track played.

"You're quite right" said Lilith "His 'soul's going to burn in a lake of fire', like the song says; and he wants the right vision from his prophets not what's really there. And he really is 'blind, too blind to see'. I wonder if we should be sorry for him."

"No" said Darryl, emphatically. "I was at school with him; and there's nothing to be sorry for. He has supportive parents and is just spoilt and nasty with it. Not worthy of your sympathy."

"Oh well, you'd know" said Lilith equably.

oOoOo

Darryl felt quite refreshed about returning to teaching, indeed the warmth of the south of France would be quite pleasant, he thought, though he had enjoyed the usual winter sports in Austria even if it had been a trifle bizarre in places with Lilith's hypothetical discussions on which type of penguin would be best at sledging down the mountain on its belly. At least, he hoped it was hypothetical. One could never quite tell with Lilith.

One could also never tell with new pupils; and Darryl grimaced. Olympe Maxime had contacted him and asked him to escort a new girl to school. This Romanian child, one Adriana Galbeni, had been attending a small local school offering just Charms, Transfigurations and Potions, a core of subjects at least; and her parents, who ran a wizarding plant nursery had taught her Herbology with the expectation that she would join them in the business. She had not attended Beauxbatons for reason of economy; but now one or other of her parents had been left a legacy they wanted a bigger school for their darling.

Darryl thought that to uproot a child in her ELM year was unkind, and they might have done better to wait until she had taken her four ELMs and then send her to Beauxbatons for her ELFs, where too if she wanted she could take a couple of ELMs alongside them. But Madam Maxime was adamant that she should learn all she could of Arithmancy and DADA, and that as she had also expressed an interest in Chanting, Darryl might take her in remedial studies.

Well if she was a genius, she might catch up, but Darryl was not sanguine. She had a term. Perhaps however the girl might consider staying down a year; but that was not his problem. Only to collect the girl, and see her to school, whilst finding out what she knew and what she did not.

The idea of putting a girl of that age through a private viva voce on the muggle train did not fill Darryl with joy.

oOoOo

Adriana Galbeni was a plump child with bad skin but neat enough. She looked at Darryl in horror.

"Oh, but I thought a FEMALE staff member would take me to school!" she cried. "I have never been even TAUGHT by a man – it is improper surely?"

"Why?" said Darryl, secretly relieved that she was not going to get silly romantic ideas about him. "A teacher is a teacher; their gender is immaterial, only their ability to get knowledge into the heads of you children. Even if we were ever going to be alone together – which we are not – it's not as though you are a woman, is it? If you think I harbour any designs on the person of a brat your age, you are, Mademoiselle Galbeni, very much mistaken. I am the junior staff member and therefore get the unenviable tasks like seeing new children to school; especially since my timetable is not very full and Madame Maxime thought you might like to get to know the teacher who will be bringing you on in the subjects she decrees that you tackle."

Adriana gave a little screech.

"What will people SAY if we are in a classroom alone together?" she cried.

Darryl gave her the sort of fishy stare Severus usually reserved for Ravenclaw girls.

"IF that situation arose, I should imagine they would say exactly as they will when you work under my eye in the staff room – that you are to be pitied for having to catch up so much. I have to say in your shoes I should be dropping back a year to the Troisième – the fourth year – in order to catch up thoroughly. Unless you are a genius, a term and a few weeks is not sufficient to come on enough in three extra subjects to take the ELM in it" he said dryly.

"Oh but I would not want to be with YOUNGER children!" cried Adriana.

Darryl shrugged.

"Suit yourself; others have done it to ensure a good education. You will in that case be limited in your choice of ELF to those subjects you may hope to pass and take the others next year in the Premier class. Whether you can study enough to take any of them further to ELF over the Terminale year is up to you. I will not be your Chanting master next year as I am only filling in for a year as a favour to Madame Maxime."

Quite why the child irritated him before he even knew her, he was not sure; but irritate him she did. And he read in her eyes dismay at the idea of hard work. Why the child had left her little dame school for a school prestigious enough to take part in the Triwizard – albeit not always too successfully – he could not fathom if she was not prepared to work. Unless of course it was her parents' idea that she should no longer be deprived. In which case the poor brat was to be somewhat pitied; but really she had the solution in her own hands by asking not to go to the big school.

"Please- please tell me who else will be teaching me?" asked Adriana.

"There will be only one other master in the subjects you are taking" said Darryl, deciding to get that shock out of the way. "M. Cuiliere is a very clever man and a fine Potioneer who recognises the need for a good grounding in Herbology and who is learning the advantages of chanting. He is not an easy task master however, and those who slack in his classes get the rough edge of his tongue and some creative detentions. Mme Epeler teaches Charms, and she is a kindly lady. Mlle Van Diemen teaches Transfigurations and if her pupils will not bother with the work she will not bother with them; and the lazy find out only when they have received fails that this means that they have to have self discipline instead. Mme LeBois teaches Herbology and her major dislike is pranksters. She will not tolerate mucking about in her class. I cannot see that anyone who is prepared to buckle down and work will have any problems. I shall be preparing you for further classes in Defence Against the Dark Arts with Mlle Duvall who is a kindly lady but I fear you will have to learn much from your own initiative. There is a self-help group which I run, early in the mornings, where we run after the English fashion to keep fit and practise defensive spells. Not to your taste? Ah well!" as the girl positively shuddered at the idea of early rising and running. "You will go to Mlle Napier later for Arithmancy. She is learned in the subject" he added trying to fine something positive to say of Nine Napier whom he thought a vapid prig. Rather like this child whose eyes were filling with tears as she stared out of the train window as it pulled out of the station, her parents waving. A girl of sixteen, actually crying in front of a stranger? Darryl tried not to sigh.

"It is so far from home!" whispered Adriana.

"That is rather the nature of most boarding schools" said Darryl dryly. "And enough children have unhappy enough home lives that they are glad to have the miles between them and their parents, so you should perhaps count your blessings that you will miss your parents, and they will miss you, and you will not fear the holidays when you must see them again: and thank your stars too, my child, that you can stare at me in incomprehension and don't have a clue what I mean. Now, while we are on the train, Madam Maxime wanted me to give you a viva voce to know your position in the class."

Adriana was horrified; but Darryl was inexorable, placing muggle-repelling charms on the doors of the carriage.

He was hardly less appalled than Adriana when he found out that if she expected to pass the meagre four subjects she was taken, she and her preceptresses were optimistic in the extreme.

"I know a lot about Herbology, don't I? and Potions?" said Adriana hopefully.

"My dear child, you might scrape a pass at ELM in the summer at Herbology but I doubt you've a prayer of passing the others unless you are a lot better at the practical side of potioneering and get an easy paper" said Darryl. "You know enough to pass the new EGG level, though with only four subjects, you would not gain the certificate. I fancy with the marks I shall be passing to the head, you will have little choice but to stay down a year as those 'younger children' you affect to despise are all more knowledgeable than you are."

"But – but then I shall not be able to enter the Triwizard next year!" cried Adriana.

Oh that was part of it, was it?

"Mlle Galbeni, the choices are taken from those within age" said Darryl "But if you think you have any chance of being picked by the Goblet of Fire when I can think of at least eight students far more able than you in your own age group and the year ahead, and one a year younger than you, all of whom surpass you by far, I think that worrying about that is probably a rather futile ambition. Rather you should try to be as good as you can be – and you may surprise me and surpass yourself. In the meantime we have reached the station where we will find a portkey to take us the rest of the way."

"Why could we not go the whole way by portkey?" asked Adriana resentfully.

"Because Mme Maxime wanted you to have time to have that little exam and brief you, if you asked, on anything about the school that you wanted to know." said Darryl with great patience. He would be glad to palm her off onto someone!

oOoOo

Darryl pulsed and then beckoned Philomène to come over when they arrived at the school.

"Mlle Fileur, this is Mlle Adriana Galbeni who is to join us; she has received a partial education and will probably be in your form. Will you show her about?"

"But certainly Professeur Zabini" said Philomène. "I am Philomène, Adriana."

Adriana was staring.

"But – but she is part goblin! Do you do this to insult me, Professor?" she was looking tearful again.

"What has being part goblin to do with anything? Are you some kind of barbarian that makes difference?" said Darryl "And as for accusing me of insulting you, why YOU are insulting to Mlle Fileur. Mlle Fileur, I release you from the request that you look out for this little racist; I thought to aid her by asking the cleverest pupil in the year to show her around but as she is unable to behave in civilised company she might make her own way."

"Britt-Mari Naslund is not clever enough to realise when she might be insulted and she is also kind; I will ask her to shepherd this girl" said Philomène.

"I do not need shepherding! Especially not by sub-races like you and this Britt-Mari!" cried Adriana and flounced off.

"She thinks the Swedish are sub-races too?" said Philomène puzzled.

"I suspect she assumes Britt-Mari is also part goblin" said Darryl dryly.

"Thank you for saying I do not have to try to befriend her" said Philomène.

Darryl shrugged.

"A bit much to ask! Pity me, though, I have to coach her in three subjects so she can take seven."

Philomène winced.

"My deepest sympathy" she said. "How was your Yule?"

"Very pleasant thank you" said Darryl.

"Mimi is a darling; I am glad you have each other" said Philomène.

"It's a wonderful family all told" said Darryl warmly.

oOoOo

Darryl reported to Madame Maxime, including the new girl's comments to and about Philomène.

Mme Maxime sighed.

"She sounds a most inadequate and stupid girl" she said. "Eh bien, I take your recommendation that she go into the Troisième and I shall write to her parents in gentle reproach that they have not warned me that she has not been taught to adequately fit into a class of others her chronological age. If she cannot settle in and makes trouble, I will make recommendation that they send her instead to 'Ellibore's Academy. It is very useful, my Darreel to have a school which is less in its attainments than mine. I hate to think where she might find herself in Severus' school."

Darryl gave a short bark of laughter.

"Being laughed at by the second – the Cinquième" he said.

Mme Maxime sighed.

"So I feared" she said. "Severus is formidable!"

"But he does take the best of the best to start off with" said Darryl "And he saw no difficulties with Viridian fitting in with HIS chronological age."

Mme Maxime brightened.

"That has made me much more cheerful my Darreel" she said.

oOoOo

Philomène was more or less friends with Britt-Mari and with Liselle Duplessis, the two girls who had stayed the course in the chanting, and too was not unfriendly with Duran Tiefstern, the Austrian boy and two other chanters, Tanguy Tallien, from Brittany and Paul L'Arbre, whose grandmother had been a dryad who had chosen to permit one of her daughters to grow up without a tree as part of a treaty with the family who owned the woodland, in order that the girl might marry into the family and bear sons. Paul was a stylish youth who enjoyed the impact he made on most girls with his green-tinged hair and willowy form. He was most put out when the new girl had looked on him with disgust and said,

"Oh, another goblin type? I cannot stay in a class that is full of such sub-humans!" she flounced away.

Philomène sighed and filled in the rest as to what the girl had said to her.

"But she is most rude!" cried Liselle "I cannot think of any way to smooth this over!"

"And what is it that she objects to in me?" demanded Britt-Mari. "I know I am not clever like you, Philomène and I would rather be friendly than clever anyway, and I have not a problem with anyone's race, but what was she saying?"

"She made assumptions that you must be a part goblin too as I was friendly with you" said Philomène shortly. "And it seems she is so ignorant she cannot recognise that Paul is part tree not part goblin, and probably she would dislike that also. I say we should be civil to her but no more."

"That is further than I would go" said Tanguy, who was friendly with Paul. "But we shall do as you suggest, Philomène. You have become quite a leader this term without Viridian here to take the lead."

"Someone has to" said Philomène, feeling the confidence that all her bloodkin lent her.

Meanwhile Adriana had gone to complain that she was being forced into a class full of goblins and got short shrift from Mme Maxime who told her that the Troisième had one part goblin only and that if that made a difference she had yet to see it save that the said part goblin returned consistently good work that was far better than the disgraceful results Mlle Galbeni had managed on her test.

"But – but the sub-human spoke of one called Britt-Mari and there was a boy with green hair!" cried Adriana.

"Britt-Mari? She is not a pure blood but her family is of the oldest" said Mme Maxime "As is Paul L'Arbre's, they have the tradition of maintaining dryad blood every few generations. And if you continue in this vein, my girl, you'll be receiving my suggestion that your parents withdraw you and send you somewhere like Durmstrang where you might be more suited."

Adriana was horrified. Plenty of wizarding children from Romania did go to Durmstrang and the word was that it was a rough place. Two boys a year younger than her had spoken in her hearing of marauders there which sounded most frightening.

"You – you do not object then to part humans?" she said, trying to sound conciliatory.

Mme Maxime's eyes narrowed.

"Being part human myself I do not object to the human part in anybody" she said. "Even pure breds may be trainable."

Adriana fled in consternation, with the intent of lying low!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The Spring term was the term in which Apportation was traditionally taught and the Premier class was invited to attend classes in it. Darryl decided to sit in, partly to see in what way the French methods might differ from the English, and what he had heard from Jade of the German way of doing it. Jade considered the German method superior to the English method and Percy Weasley was instituting changes in Prince Peak to use something more akin to the German method. Severus was never averse to borrowing anything that worked from any source.

The instructor sent from the French Ministry of Transport was a droop-shouldered man of uncertain age who seemed to expect that most of the class would fail, which meant, though Darryl irritably, he would communicate his expectation of failure to the pupils and then would institute a self-fulfilling prophecy.

He said as much to Madam Maxime.

"Ah, yes" said Madam Maxime "It is not a popular task; so many partial splinchings which are not good for the career of the ministry man. I expect he lost."

"I beg your pardon?" said Darryl.

"Ah, my Darreel, is it not thus in Eengland, where the man to come is the one that has drawn the short straw?" said Mme Maxime.

"Certainly not" said Darryl "There are a number of trained instructors who go round the schools. One of them now teaches at Prince Peak; he is responsible for teaching Apportation to the Prince Peak pupils and is on call if needed elsewhere. However he is moving to use the German method being one thing that does have Germanic efficiency that really is" he added. "This idiot is going to cause nothing but accidents with his hangdog attitude; let me teach them, Olympe."

"I cannot do that, Dareel, it must be an accredited man from the Ministry" said Mme Maxime.

Darryl sighed and determined to be ready to do what he could to desplinch any unfortunate pupil who was depressed into poor performance by the ministry man. His own satellites, Pharamond, Abelard and Jean-luc should be all right; they could feel apportation in their bloodsong.

Darryl was approached by the other two of the Premiere who were in his accelerator class of chanting, Medé Fouconrouge and Salomé d'Hautbois.

"We were wondering, Professor, if there was a chanting solution to improve our chances of succeeding with Apportation" said Salomé. "The man from the ministry is the same as the one who came last year and most of the Terminale class will be having to repeat their lessons to get their apportation licences; there were a lot of splinches. Only Amyetis Al-Sharu succeeded first time. We're a bit scared."

"Oh dear" said Darryl. "I'd never considered a chanting solution but let me think a moment…. A chant to enclose your whole body so it's held together would be a good start and then one for movement from here to there… er,

Je m'y suis, et je voudrai

Sans travaille ici je sais" he suggested.

The girls brightened.

"That sounds as though it should work" said Medé, the quiet one.

"Remember though to be concentrating on the ici that you want to be" said Darryl "Putting the picture of it firmly in your head on the word should work."

Dreadful doggerel that people could remember often worked better than thoroughly crafted rhymes.

"What about a rhyme for holding ourselves together?" asked Salomé.

"That's very personal" said Darryl "And you should consider something based on twenty three syllables, but perhaps how you break that down should be in the numerology of your own name. I'll happily look over anything you come up with though and help out if you have any difficulties" he added "But it's up to you to work out any permutations of your name numerologically, decide if your birth date has any bearing and so on. It need not be specific to each body part - 'from top of head to tip of toes, each part I enclose' comes to mind, which isn't twenty three syllables but it is thirteen – numerologically an addition of the six and seven that make up my first and last name. Equally that, reducing to four, means I could have four lines each of twenty-three syllables. It's very personal as I keep telling you. Oh and don't forget to pass it on to Trudi Paganus in the Terminale as she's an advanced chanter too, as Princess Orinjade has already passed, and the boys in your own year" he added, not wanting to let anyone know that the three boys had their own advantages.

"Thank you – those are useful pointers" said Salomé. "It's actually rather nice to get some practice at something meaningful too before the chanting exams."

Medé nodded agreement and they went off happier.

Darryl shrugged to himself. Whether the chanting would make a whole lot of difference he was not sure; but having belief in themselves that it would make a difference WOULD make a difference. Apportation was like that.

oOoOo

Amyetis Al-Sharu was disappointed that Darryl was sitting in on the Apportation classes.

"I had hoped for a chance to talk to you" she said in her brusque way. Darryl had learned that she did not intend insolence.

"He'll spend a while with a spiel I expect, Princess Orinjade" said Darryl "I can go in late; you look serious."

"He took half an hour with us, bumbling through what Apportation is and not getting to the point" said Amyetis. "Fortunately my father had spoken to me about it in the holidays and made me practise. Our country has a lot of powerful spirit masters and those of us whose fathers are closely associated with the government are more at risk and therefore should have the tools to escape if possible, he said."

"I agree with your father" said Darryl. "What can I do for you?"

"Advice" said Amyetic laconically. "I've been having a series of quite unpleasant attacks on my belongings and on my preparation, which is a harder thing to forgive. With the use of logic and divination I'm pretty certain who it is, but retaliating in kind seems extremely childish; and to tell tales about her stupidity seems a little mean as it might get her expelled. I dislike the girl intensely but I wouldn't want to go that far."

"MMmm" said Darryl. "There's two ways round this. The simple way perhaps is the potioneering solution – I could give you a chit to take to M. Cuiliere for permission to use the ingredients to brew a potion, in which you include a drop of your own blood to exclude yourself from it and paint it on your possessions so anyone who tampers with them has stains on their hands that are hard to explain. The other method requires some considerable work of chanting."

"I don't mind the work" said Amyetis. "I considered a potioneering solution; I did not know you could tie it to yourself. Is that blood magic?"

"A lesser form of it, yes" said Darryl "Like using the blood of a relative with divining rods to find a missing person."

"Obviously I am as ignorant about blood magic as I am about demonology" frowned Amyetis. "No matter for now; knowing one's deficiencies is a good starting point to remedy the lack. I think if you will tell me what I need to do, the chanting solution will probably be better. I always thought potioneering the most subtle of the arts but I believe chanting surpasses it."

"I wouldn't disagree" said Darryl. "This one takes care of wand work as well as tampering; and is a twofold circle of protection that is extended to cover the objects within it when they are removed. Part of the chant casts a small jinx – say a stinging hex – on any who starts to destroy property physically, the other part absorbs the power of any spell cast and reflects it directly through the wand. It was invented by a couple of youths in Durmstrang who wanted to protect the brooms of the Quidditch team from a jealous girl who intended sabotage because younger players than she were picked. I'm a friend of my counterpart in Durmstrang and we correspond on anything interesting" he added. "The current head boy there is very talented indeed and creative."

"Then if you will give me the starting point, Sir, I will use that" said Amyetis. "I have not been learning long enough to be able to think of it for myself but I believe with a starting form of the charms embedded I shall be capable of undertaking it."

"Yes, I think you will" said Darryl. "A chant always works better if you have a strong will – as you do – and can oppose any spell cast into your chant with that will. I'll write it out for you if you like, and you can then send it home to your father. Variations on the theme have applications to oppose any attack."

"Thank you" said Amyetis, abruptly. "Oh and by the way, I have spoken to my family about the futility of racism, and my father has spoken to the High King, and he is interested in knowing more. Having a lever against the demons by befriending those they have punished and cast out, the goblins and elves, makes much sense to him, though he must be careful in how far he goes for the people are often ignorant and will need explanation. And giving too much explanation will cause the spirit masters to have due warning and they will speak to their demons."

"Tricky" said Darryl. "I would suggest that your High King might wish to come into line with much of Europe in permitting more enfranchisement to educated goblins and elves; and if he will sponsor children from all walks of life, and too goblins and elves to come to school in such European schools as will teach about the fey – like Prince Peak – then he may begin to form a cadre of the educated who will learn methods to counter them. Perhaps your father will send you for a year of finishing school to Prince Peak too, to study further? Severus Snape, its headmaster, is one of two people I should truly call knowledgeable about Demonology. And Severus Snape has written the only really academic book on Blood Magic."

Amyetis actually looked quite excited.

"This I will ask about" she said. "Thank you for your time; I have much to consider and much to write to my father."

She walked abruptly off.

Darryl reflected that she was an odd girl, and wondered yet again whether he should be bringing her into the Blood Group.

oOoOo

The man from the ministry was telling his students to concentrate, contemplate and control. It was said in so boring a tone with such a lack of apparent interest that Darryl reflected that he doubted if any of the students would manage to recall what was said any better than if he had suggested that they copulate, conjugate and cohabit. Actually they might notice that, he thought.

The instructor gave orders to practise apporting out of hoops as in the English manner; and Darryl pulsed an admonition to Pharamond, Jean-Luc and Abelard who had already been smoothly apporting simultaneously to swap around in their respective rings without the instructor noticing.

They gave him identical innocent looks.

Well no fear that they did not have the Marauder spirit.

They demonstrated their ability to get out of the ring and back in smoothly to the surprise of the examiner; and with only a little hesitation so did the three chanters.

The instructor was amazed. He had never had such a level of success even after the full course of two weeks.

He was so busy preening himself that he failed to notice in time as Nicodemus Villars disappeared with a yell, echoed by his twin Natalie.

Nicodemus was one of the more talented chanters in the year but had declined the accelerator class, which Darryl thought a pity, as Natalie did not think she could keep up.

There was something of a rent in the substance of the hall; and mindful of the stories he had heard about the temporary gate to Basingstoke railway station at Hogwarts, Darryl used all his voice control to shout to the students to move away. He seized the screaming Natalie by the wrist and dragged her near the distortion which was spitting out snowflakes

"Trust me" he said and cut her hand open with the cutting spell, counting out 23 drops onto the floor. Then he began chanting to enclose himself in case the gate caused odd splinching effects, and to create a bubble of warmth, and to take him directly to the male counterpart of the blood. Most of the girls were screaming and the instructor was lamenting ineffectively.

Darryl apported and discovered Nicodemus huddled, blue with cold, on an iceberg, watched by a curious penguin.

Warming charms cast quickly on the boy, Darryl apported back to the Hall to nod to Natalie and tell her laconically,

"School Hospital" before apparating directly there with instructions that the boy had received accidental hypothermia.

He then returned to the great hall, grateful for the elf style apportation that made the risk of being near a gate – rent more than a gate – considerably less.

"Well, Monsieur" said Darryl to the instructor "The boy is with the school nurse. Will you want help with closing the gate he opened?"

"Oh my dear fellow! Can't be done without a lot of research and ritual!" cried the man. "I'll need to file a report and have it inspected, and the room must be out of use until it has been studied and a good ritual time found to get a team in….what are you doing?"

Darryl was sick of vacillating ministry types and had strode to the rent, shooed the inquisitive penguin that had emerged back inside it, and started to walk around the area it occupied, resisting its pull, and chanting. He used Old Norse because it felt right for ice and snow, even though the rent went to the wrong end of the world. Darryl did not think that there had ever been a language used there. Penguins were singularly lacking in civilisation.

The instructor was muttering about things being most irregular and the young teacher was doing this at his own risk and everyone should witness that.

Darryl began dancing, the wild frenzied dance of a snowflake, dancing on insubstantial air with the knowledge he had gained from Seagh, light as a snowflake, spiralling round; then as he swung down in a series of midair athletic tumbles he drew the rent together with a snap as his feet touched the ground.

The students applauded.

Many of the female students were applauding his taut athletic body, but the chanters at least were applauding the consummate skill.

"Not worth calling out a ritual team for a little thing like that" said Darryl lightly. "Only a geographical warp, no temporal components."

This was the point at which the instructor had hysterics and Darryl sent Pharamond to escort him back to the staffroom and gave the apportation students a somewhat more cogent lesson on how to apparate.

Olympe could after all claim with honesty that the ministry man had done his thing. Nobody need know that his lesson was supplemented.

oOoOo

The chanters who were not part of the accelerator group were soon clamouring for instruction and Darryl set the more advanced students to help them find a chant to help them apparate, by way of further revision. The three older marauders fell in with this readily, and once she knew what was going on, Amyetis also unbent to lend aid. Teased gently by Pharamond she replied rather stiffly that the experience of teaching might be useful if she were to have to be her country's sole educator of goblins. Pharamond slapped her on the back and complimented her on her intelligence which was the right way to get Amyetis to unbend.

The Italian girl in the Terminale, Laurentzia Filotti, missed some time in school, meanwhile, and most of the apportation lessons. Somehow she had both managed to cut herself on scissors and had a somewhat scorched wand, and she was refusing to talk about how either of these aberrant occurrences had come about. Amyetis was a lot more relaxed and Darryl drew his own conclusions. He disliked what little he knew of Laurentzia who whined, was inclined to blame anyone but herself for poor work and was despised cordially by Professeur Demophile Clairedelune who took her Divination seriously but had little time for those who saw omens in everything. The unkind in the staff room might say that this was because the self-absorbed Demophile liked to be the only person to see and interpret omens, but Darryl considered that although she was something of a diva about her powers, Demophile Clairedelune's abilities were genuine enough, and at least she used means other than guesswork to predict the future. He disliked her, but pitied any teacher lumbered with what were usually essentially the 'also rans' who took the subject either as a soft option or because their belief in it surpassed their ability.

Demophile was heard to say, with malicious glee, that Mlle Filotti did not have enough foreknowledge, or indeed common sense, to recognise that messing with the belongings of the only true seer in the class who was also the cleverest was going to bring nothing but trouble. Darryl had to admit that either Demophile was a lot shrewder than he had given her credit for in working that all out, or she had received some help in her deductions from her cards.

Laurentzia was only taking Ancient Runes besides Divination and Horace Deveraux told her heartily that she would not be needing her wand for that any more than for Divination and so there was no need for her to have time out of classes as she was not so good a student that she could afford to miss any. If Laurentzia had disliked Amyetis before she positively loathed her now; but at least now feared her retribution enough to lay low.

oOoOo

With Valentine's Day coming up, it occurred to Darryl that someone who carried a spite might conceivably use that to send hurtful Valentines cards; it had happened before, after all. He dropped a warning to Amyetis, who regarded him thoughtfully; and gave a curt nod.

"I will be warned. Thank you," she said.

It may be said that apart from mild concern over the attack by Russian supremacists on Prince Peak – and, as it transpired, Durmstrang – Darryl considered that lovesick and otherwise dippy teenagers at Valentines were of more danger than a few dark wizards.

He expressed this opinion in the staff room and was looked at blankly.

"Is this then some kind of English humour to joke so about dark wizards?" asked Horace.

Darryl laughed a short, mirthless laugh.

"No, actually, I was perfectly serious. To must schoolchildren who will not be likely to face dark wizards – except those who see it as sport – the danger to their future happiness of the foolishness around times of supposed love feasts is far greater. Jealousies and fighting to blight friendships, and cruel Valentines sent that may upset sensitive children."

There was silence.

"You have a point," said Horace.

"Oh but nice children do not do such things!" said Fleur LeBois.

"Fleur, you're a fool," said Amédé Cuiliere. "I hadn't noticed particularly, but I have come upon too many fools trying to brew love potions in my classroom to consider this time of year with much favour."

"And I recall that when I was at school, someone sent me a few very nasty Valentines," said Olympe Maxime, her eyes flashing. "But what is to be done about it, Dareel?"

"Keep a close eye out – one can scarcely ban Valentines, I suppose," said Darryl, " – and organise the little darlings thoroughly into two parties, a fun and games one for the little ones, and one with dancing and music for the older ones."

"Oh of course there is always a Valentine's ball," sighed Demophile Clairedelune with the sort of look on her face that reminded Darryl of the sort of girls who DID steal into dungeons to brew love potions.

He resolved to chant up an immediate antidote in his very blood in case of accidental poisoning.

"You think the little ones should be separated, Dareel?" asked Olympe.

"Yes, I do, Olympe; the older ones will want to giggle, and the younger ones will be better off just having a party, where they can't laugh at their elders and will not be bored if the older ones want to play silly love divination games," said Darryl.

"Hah! Let's you and me and Charmaine organise the little ones then," said Horace. "Leave it to us, Olympe!"

"I was hoping to get a volunteer or two to help with that," grinned Darryl. "Amédé, I presume you keep antidotes to love potions?"

The Potions master sighed.

"I do; though few are skilled enough to brew amortentia, I DO have one this year both capable and – how do you English put it – dippy enough to try. And it has been known for some girls who are incapable to send for some by mail order."

"Oh well, we should all be safe then, if you've enough antidote," said Darryl. "It's a relatively subtle poison, unlike some of the lust potions, which can be a bit brute force."

"Experience?" asked Amédé.

"Yes," said Darryl. "I didn't like it one bit. My girlfriend, now my fiancée, however, was quite capable of brewing the antidote."

He did not say that Mimi had been the one to poison him with amortentia purely to get his attention long enough to talk and had given him the antidote almost immediately. The reasons were too personal. He was fairly certain he would recognise such false feelings again in himself, but just in case, he would be glad of a prophylactic chant to set up an automatic blood cleansing. Pattern magic would be better yet, with a cleansing charm inscribed on his skin, but without Randolph Wright to do it for him, Darryl must fall back on a combination of chanting, and his knowledge of ancient runes to inscribe a sigil or two to activate the actions of a chant if foreign substances came into his body. Of course the blood group could notice and dissipate it, but Darryl liked to be independent!

It may be said that it was fortunate that Laurenzia was not one of those girls capable of brewing any kind of love potion, as the idea of making Amyetis fall in love with one of the goblin gardeners did occur to her; and she did not feel on such good terms with Armandine Guizet, the capable but dippy potioneer indicated my Amédé, that she might enlist her aid. This was as well, since Armandine was something of a xenophobe, and whilst an Italian girl was marginally acceptable, she might well have been happy to discommode someone she considered a stuck-up foreigner. Especially as Amyetis was also a better potioneer. As it was, Armandine came up with another potioneering solution to spoil the Valentines ball for Amyetis, while Laurenzia resorted to the tired old concept of sending a nasty Valentine.

Darryl received a visit from the Assyrian girl with her head wrapped in a towel.

"Oh dear, someone has cursed your hair?" said Darryl.

"Potion," said Amyetis, succinctly. "I need no help with that; a chanting solution to neutralise the effect of having the hair raising potion is likely to work better than bothering to brew the antidote. It is the unpleasant Valentine; I am thinking there should be a way to make it return to sender and somehow cause embarrassment, perhaps folded as a bird to sing?"

Darryl grinned.

"Now that's a nice little bit of ritual invented by Draco Malfoy; and useful to you whether you teach or become involved in politics," he said. "It can also be used to wipe over something touched by a miscreant to pick up ritual particles on a piece of paper, folded to fly to the same."

"Clever," said Amyetis. "I am glad I was on the right idea."

Darryl nodded.

"You do it like this…" he explained how. "May I see this offensive Valentine? How offensive it is may depend whether you wish to merely have it tweeting forlornly or if you wish it to be more… forthright."

Amyetis hesitated, shrugged, and passed him the card. It came purportedly from a werewolf who loved Amyetis' dog breath. The tone of the message went downhill from there.

"Childish but predictable," said Darryl. "I'm damned if I know how to fold a wolf or dog… pity or it could chase the silly girl howling."

Amyetis actually laughed.

"Is there not in English the phrase 'to wolf whistle'?" she asked.

"Yes, it is a particular pair of changing notes… I see where you are taking this. It goes thus…" Darryl demonstrated a wolf-whistle.

Amyetis took her valentine and retired with a nod of thanks and a most undignified dimple showing beside her usually firm mouth. She was going to enjoy a little bit of payback for years of being carped at, and for perhaps the first time in her school career was going to let loose and be a little childish. She had heard enough stories Darryl had randomly told to his senior chanters to suggest that the English thought that a little childish fun sometimes honed skills too; and as she had joined the ECC this term for the stamina she had heard a few stories there too.

The English were in the habit of winning against dark wizards; one must therefore give credence to all their methods, even when they were more enjoyable than dutiful endeavour ought to be.

It may be said that where Armandine merely seethed slightly that her potioneering efforts appeared not to have worked, Amyetis having sorted her hair out ruthlessly, Laurenzia spent the ball feeling acutely uncomfortable as the folded bird hovered lovingly by her, giving vent to the occasional wolf-whistle.

The wolf-whistling bird disturbed Olympe sufficiently to request Darryl to leave the junior party to help out; and Darryl laughed.

"Oh, I won't negate that, Olympe," he said, "for I proffered advice on how to undertake the origami to send a filthy and disgusting valentine back to the sender with appropriate rebuke. I don't see any reason to release a childish little girl from having been caught out spreading such unpleasantness. Perhaps it will teach her that all such poison pen matters eventually come home to, er, roost."

Olympe sighed but accepted Darryl's position. It had been beyond a simple finite incantatum and all she could do was to wait for the thing to run down – or for the originator to get bored and end the enchantment.

Darryl returned to the lower school, where he was having far more fun than he might have had at a ball, playing silly games with children who soon shed being precious under the fun of games like consequences, writing silly poems where the first letter of each line spelled out 'Valentine' and covering obstacle courses in order to eat heart shaped jam tarts – Darryl had specified what he wanted to the castle elves – with knife and fork wearing silly clothes.

It is probable that the younger forms had better fun than their elders; though the blooded contrived to enjoy themselves well enough for having volunteered as a body to help with the little ones. Darryl had accepted and Olympe had sighed and decided not to even protest.

It may be said that Adriana Galbeni did not enjoy herself any more than Laurenzia, since apart from Darryl's solitary volunteer in that class, Philomène, the troisième were required to be at the ball, and amongst her other educational deficiencies, Adriana did not dance. And had she not irritated Darryl, she might have been offered the chance to join in with the younger ones too. Such had, however, been her choice.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Adriana was no happier in class. She was able to keep up with the class she had been placed in, but still found the work hard. When her parents wrote to ask how it was that she had been so held back, Olympe replied, it has to be said, rather waspishly that presumably this was caused either by poor teaching or a singularly lazy child, or possibly merely the combination of both.

As Adriana was inclined to rest on her laurels – and any other plants that came her way – in Herbology, her only competent subject, and failed to raise the enthusiasm to work hard in any other class, the latter was fair comment. Adriana fancied herself as a chanter as she liked to sing, and had already complained to Madame Maxime that the horrid cruel chanter made her do things that hurt.

This could be a damning thing to say about a young male professor and Madam Maxime soon had her confessing that it was the breath control exercises. Olympe called Philomène into her office and asked her about the effects of learning breath control.

Philomène shrugged.

"There is some discomfort at first, Madam Maxime; Professeur Zabini warned us, but it is not really painful, just that one feels a little bruised from exercising unaccustomed muscles. Those who are already fit barely notice it."

That was sufficient to be able to tell Adriana that she was a naughty child to slander a professor who was doing his best to help; and the Romanian child found herself dismissed with the adjuration that she was lucky not to find herself in serious trouble for spreading lies.

Adriana had of course hurt herself more than the exercises would ever do, by half listening to half of what she was told and had been breathing quite improperly and had managed to pull an intercostal muscle. Darryl soon realised this in her next class where she was almost sobbing, and told her off for not coming to him to have such damage sorted out; proceeded to chant to heal it, and suggested that if she listened in the future she would be less likely to inflict unnecessary damage on herself. It has to be said that Adriana, grateful for the relief from pain, settled down and, rather sulkily, did as she was told instead of what she thought she was told. Adriana was not by nature an industrious child, but she did not like being laughed at for doing badly; and she had been badly frightened by the large and frightening headmistress who had told her off for her racism and her complaints about her hurt muscle.

It had never occurred to Adriana, who was utterly unaware of things sexual, that her complaint might be taken that way. And though she resented him telling her off for not coming to him with a problem instead of concealing it – Olympe had decided not to pass on the child's complaint – she appreciated having it sorted out, and a relatively gentle explanation about how she had managed to do it in the first place. And it was the first kindness she had noticed – forgetting that she had spurned Philomène's kindnesses at first.

At least it made her a generally more tractable pupil, and Darryl for one was glad of that!

oOoOo

There seemed to be relatively little excitement in the school until the blood pulse of confusion and some distress from Philomène came one evening.

Darryl apparated smoothly to just outside the middle school common room, knocked, and went in; where Philomène appeared to be under physical attack by a member of the Seconde, a girl who had dropped out of chanting as soon as she discovered it was going to be hard work. Darryl recalled vaguely that the girl's name was Erzuli Duschesne, from Haiti, which suddenly made a lot of sense of why she appeared to be out of control with blackened, weeping eyes, and her muscles grossly swollen.

"Oh Merlin's bollocks," said Darryl, with deep feeling.

Fortunately the kids did not know enough English to be offended by this, particularly as they were more concerned with shrieking – in the case of many – or trying to pull Erzulie off Philomène – in the case of the few, which included the Rivals, Marc and Stephan, and her other bloodkin in the school who had also apparated in.

Darryl started a chant to reinforce the _incarcerous_ spell he threw, and to levitate the physical body of Erzuli into the air. He motioned the others back and began to circle her, chanting. He knew very little of the original language of Benin, which had given rise to Vodou, or Voodoo as many Europeans rendered it, and therefore fell back on French and Latin, because the Church used Latin, and the Church condemned – usually without having a clue what they were condemning – all things regarding Voudon.

Well, they were right about this manifestation.

Erzuli had managed to make herself into a _cheval_ to be ridden by Maitre Carrefour, who was generally bad news in any aspect. Darryl suspected that whichever Fey spirit took the form was also responsible for the god Loki, Carrefour being the trickster loa, lord of the crossroads and master of confusion. Not evil as such, but certainly NOT to be welcomed in a school. Even Hogwarts. Darryl was absently shielding Philomène from the wordless, wandless magic pouring from Erzuli, something the girl would never manage without being possessed by the darkish magician loa that rode her.

"I know you help with personal problems, old boy," said Darryl, conversationally, "but you really ought to realise that most of the personal problems of teenage girls are caused by an excess of hormones and an insufficiency of common sense. I'm going to cast you out, you know; and I give you fair warning, because if we do this in a civilised way, it won't hurt you."

"What do I get for leaving the little idiot of my own accord?" the voice that came from Erzuli was deep and grating, and the French was heavily accented and almost incomprehensible.

"You get for me not to hurt you, old boy," said Darryl. "I'm far too good for you, you know. I was trained by the best."

"I cannot go without either pact or struggle; I have been summoned," said Maitre Carrefour. Darryl shrugged.

"So be it," he said. "You can assuage pride and struggle, and still go with the ways and paths I open to limit the pain."

It was a way out. The Loa were such equivocal beings, not by any means the worst of the fey, being more capricious than anything else – and genuinely fascinated by humanity – that he preferred not to actually irritate one.

He began the chant; and after feeling the spirit fight against him for the first few repetitions of the stanza he quickly put together – and sensing deep respect from the spirit as he added a brief burst of old Norse against the power of fire – he found that he was not having to work so hard to dislodge the fey from the head of M'selle Duschesne. He completed the chant in any case. Anything else would leave her open to rapid and easy repossession; and there was a definite sense of respect from Maitre Carrefour. Darryl completed, and Erzuli Duschesne slumped in the magical bonds.

Gently he lowered her to the ground, and cancelled the bonds.

"What on earth was that about?" asked Horace Deveraux, who was one of half a dozen other staff members who had apparently arrived while Darryl was busy.

"Voudon," said Darryl, laconically, nodding to the head, who had also arrived. "Olympe, if you must have dippy girls from Haiti, it might be as well to consider the idea of comparative magic on your curriculum. Des – er, Fraulein Uccello wouldn't have a cat's chance in hell of unmounting a loa from a cheval, and I've lost you already."

"Zut alors!" cried Olympe Maxime, in lively horror. "Are you saying the girl was possessed? And willingly?"

"I don't know about willingly, Madame Maxime," said Darryl, thoughtfully, "I suspect the silly chit had no idea what she was letting herself in for. I suggest you take her to the hospital room; we can talk to her about it tomorrow."

Madame Maxime swept Erzuli off in her arms.

"That, my friend, was moderately impressive," said Amédé Cuiliere. "I believe I shall be getting some books on comparative magic over the holidays. BOTH holidays."

Darryl laughed. "Well, although I never took it to NEWT, I am glad I listen to other people complaining about holiday assignments," he said. "If I hadn't read around the subject too, for personal interest, and because the whole business is related to the fey, I'd have been totally out of my depth. Maitre Carrefour is a capricious fellow. Perhaps that's why he felt able to co-operate."

"THAT was co-operating?" asked Amédé.

"Oh he had to strut his stuff a bit," said Darryl. "But yes, he co-operated. He has the sense to realise it hurts less; and I did give him fair warning. Sometimes some spirits respond to that. Treating him like a demon will make him behave like a demon. I … understand that too well not to be ready to compromise."

"And perhaps that makes you greater and more subtle at that," said Amédé. "WHY are we still hanging around in the brats' common room when we could be having coffee with a strong dash of schnapps in it in the staffroom?"

"No idea," said Darryl, who thought Améde was on to a good idea there. Wrestling with loa, even going personality to personality rather than a real fight as such was a wearing thing.

oOoOo

The next day, Erzuli Duschesne had an uncomfortable interview in Madame Maxime's office.

"I was going to ask whatever possessed you to do that, but what possessed you was a bit obvious," said Darryl, who was asking the questions to try to unravel what had happened.

Erzuli burst into tears.

"I don't really remember what happened," she sobbed.

"Whilst under possession? No, with Maitre Carrefour, I believe that's a common situation," said Darryl, adding cynically, "and a way countless criminals have got out of too much trouble, by claiming possession and a loss of memory during the time of it. However, the period in which you were summoning Maitre Carrefour should NOT be lost to your memory."

Erzuli squirmed.

"I just wanted him to bring some bad luck to Philomène Fileur," she muttered. "Because Pharamond Duval spent Valentine's with her, doubtless she gave him a love potion to make him want to neck with her all evening instead of dancing!"

"For your information, you silly little girl," said Darryl, frostily, "Both Pharamond and Philomène were, in company of others, volunteers to help make the party for the little ones go with more of a swing. They were not necking, indeed they were not out of my sight all evening, because after we packed the small ones off to bed, I took my volunteers to drink coffee and chat, so not only is your assumption faulty, and indeed slanderous to suggest that M'selle Fileur should poison any schoolfriend, so too is your understanding of how to utilise a powerful loa for something along the lines of a jealous brat's corridor curses."

"I also suspect," said Madam Maxime, "that you have missed the point that M'selle Fileur is cleverer than you, and has an interest in many of the subjects that also interest M. Duval. Which in the long run is more likely to be efficacious in any romantic endeavour than either love potions or involving demonology. Yes, my child, raising loa comes under the province generally referred to as demonology, and you were extremely lucky to obtain the loa of your choice, and not a being infinitely more inimitable."

"And there are plenty," said Darryl. "If you wish to study vodou, you should read all you might while at school, and apprentice yourself to a reputable Bokor when you leave school. Misuse of it is far too dangerous for schoolgirls to dabble in. And you might pick yourself a more benign loa, like the one you are named for, Erzuli Freda."

Erzuli was sobbing in earnest now.

Olympe caught Darryl's eye and raised an interrogative eyebrow. He nodded. The silly girl had learned her lesson.

"You will tender a written apology to M'selle Fileur, begging her pardon for both suspecting her of breaking school rules, and for targeting her; and another to the _Seconde _and_ Troisième _ as a whole, apologising for disrupting their evening and causing them some distress," said Olympe, sternly. The girl nodded and stumbled off as soon as she was dismissed.

"Dareel, what would we have done without you!" cried Olympe.

"He'd have left of his own accord as soon as he was bored, as it happens," said Darryl, "But it really isn't done to encourage loa to ride schoolchildren. Silly piece! I doubt any Bokor would take her on if he or she heard of this, but there! She might grow up. It was lucky I had half an idea what I was talking about."

"We need more subjects," declared Madame Maxime. "And this shall prove it to the governors!"

oOoOo

Madame Maxime confided to Darryl that she hoped that Erzuli had not damaged her chances in the ELMs, as she had upset herself.

"Easter's late; it's not even March yet," said Darryl. "She has almost three months to compose herself; why should she have any problems?"

"Oh you English!" cried Madame Maxime. "Such a thing can cause hysteria and nightmares for months!"

"Dose her with glumbumble juice and a sweetsleep draft them," said Darryl. "If she concentrated more on her work and less on her love life, she would not need to worry about her exams; I have no sympathy with dippy girls who want to use an extended period of dippiness recovery to seek the sympathy vote."

Madame Maxime looked slightly pained.

"Does such harshness indeed spur leetle children on to perform?" she asked.

"Harshness? I don't consider expecting near adults – they are not little children – to take responsibility for their own actions to be harsh," said Darryl. "Is this why they are ready to fall into the arms of the likes of Achille, because they still expect someone to do their thinking for them when they leave school? I think why English children do better is because we train them to take responsibility, not cushion them from life, Olympe."

"Oh, but when they leave school, they have no more childhood; they deserve as happy and carefree a time as we might give them!" declared the big headmistress.

Darryl declined to answer any further; nothing he said was going to make any difference, and mistaken kindness was going to continue to turn out children unfitted for the exigencies of real life, because they went from being babies to being expected to be adults for the leaving of school; in much the same way English muggles were doing with their ever increasing insistence on 'Health and Safety' and wrapping sub adults in cotton wool – until they had to face the consequences of being adult for themselves. It was not a healthy trend.

However, hopefully without any more alarums, even Beauxbatons' precious loveys might survive the exams; and there were now Marauders in the school to carry on a tradition of ignoring health and safety. And with that in mind, Darryl set about working out a good arithmantic date to blood the Champagne Marauders, and proceeded to have them in his study for kaffee und kuchen – Darryl adhered rigidly to what he considered a very civilised Austrian custom – with their older counterparts, and explained blood magic in more detail.

He half expected protests from delicate French flowers, but the Lafée sisters were both nodding.

"The fey use blood pacts to seal bargains," said Amelie, "And less benign ones sometimes than what you speak of, which is bound to an unbreakable vow to love, not an unbreakable vow to succeed in some task. This seems quite sensible to me, and a way we may reiterate our ties of love and friendship."

At least the French were comfortable with words like love.

"It means we can feel more of each other's skills in the ties, too, doesn't it?" ventured Armand.

Darryl regarded the little boy with respect.

"Yes, Armand, it does," he said. "and in the NEXT triwizard when you and Melusine will be of an age to take part, it puts you on your honour too NOT to use the strength you can also draw from your fellows. As Pharamond, Jean-luc or Abelard will not do so, whichever of them is chosen next year."

"Excuse me," said Candide, "you seem very certain it will be one of those who are already, er, blooded who will be chosen. Is that not cheating that you ensure that they are of the best even if they do not use their additional advantages?"

"No, it's more that the brightest and best are chosen to maraud," said Darryl, "including those who are determined to succeed against odds. Personally – sorry boys – I have no doubt in my mind that the goblet will choose Pharamond and would have done so even if I had never met him."

Jean-Luc and Abelard shrugged fatalistically. They had already come to the same conclusion.

Candide nodded.

"I see; I had to make sure," she said.

"Of course you did. And you were quite right to raise it," said Darryl, pleased at such sense of fair play, even if a little pompously couched.

"What about Princess Orinjade?" asked Pharamond, suddenly. "I keep thinking she is close to being right… and if she has to deal with people who raise demons, we should be, as you English say, poor prunes if we did not support her."

Darryl nodded.

"I will ask her," he said. "I don't object in any respect to her being my sister, and if she IS going to be starting schools, having the blood group to support her against those who would oppose her would be good."

oOoOo

Darryl took the four already blooded marauders with him as chaperones and extracted Amyetis from the morning run next day; she had taken to joining them on hearing how well it improved stamina. Propped against a tree in the privacy of the forest, Darryl explained.

Amyetis nodded.

"When it first became apparent that you knew something of blood magic, I sent for the book about it by Professor Snape; as he is the world's pre-eminent potioneer, I was half disposed to purchase it in any case, that you have been trained by him convinced me. My English is poor, but I believe I have understood it well enough – I thought there was more to be gained, you understand, in reading it in the original, rather than risk missing a point in a poor translation."

"Well reasoned," said Darryl. "The German translation is pure enough, as it was done by Lydia Snape who may be a better chanter even than her father; he hasn't really had time to do it himself, and Lydia has not got around to the French version yet."

Amyetis smiled.

"I am glad it was the correct choice. I believe that it refers to a sharing of blood to protect one, or all within those who share. And the emphasis is on sharing not sacrificing. Is that correct?"

"In the English idiom, a hole in one," said Darryl. "Absolutely correct. So, are you willing to be in?"

Amyetis looked startled.

"You are a part of that same blood pact? And you are inviting me to join?"

"I am, and I am," said Darryl.

Her face flared in sudden joy.

"Oh! I had been wondering if I should ask you how I might set something like that up, to protect those who want to bring change, but if you are willing to share with me… that is beyond what I might have hoped!"

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it," said Darryl. "There is a second, supportive, blood group. We are close to them as friends, but they are a backup JUST in case anything hard enough could resonate through the lot of us and knock us flying."

"It'd have to be the King of Hell and all his cohorts equally bloodjoined, and that is so not going to happen," said Pharamond. "But they like their own group identity, yes?"

"They did it illicitly, to give magic to a sensitive, but essentially muggle brother of one who was close to the original group," said Darryl. "They are sufficient unto themselves, and hit the ground running to support any of our people, as we do with theirs. Lionel – their de facto central figure, as Sev is for us – is an auror. And a fine one. If you preferred your own group, Amyetis, I'd help you in the ritual of setting it up, of course."

"I would rather belong to something strong enough not to have to worry how many goblins I decide to teach," said Amyetis.

"Good; then we'll be doing the ceremony on the last dark of the moon before Easter. That's 26th March, so a couple of days before we break up. We have no Marauding room set up here, alas," said Darryl.

He then had to explain Marauding to Amyetis, who looked slightly lost for having no notebook to take notes, but was otherwise storing away everything for future reference. Darryl did not doubt that there would be Assyrian Marauders before many years had passed.

"I will also spend, as you have suggested, next year in Prince Peak, learning more, so that I may be only marginally more ignorant than you about demonology," she made the heavy joke, but plainly intended as a joke.

"Ask Sev and you will probably end up much more knowledgeable than I," said Darryl, seriously. "He takes keeping the fey in their place pretty seriously."

"Thank you. I will do so," said Amyetis. "And I will learn to teach. Perhaps I may help bring on slower pupils to show me how."

"He'd appreciate that," said Darryl. Sev was going to have a large post graduate class; including the one-time brat of Ravenclaw, Amos Leroy, who was there entirely for music, and who had been recommended by the Auror who had been his guardian and essentially warder.

"We need to find a Marauding room," said Pharamond. "and by the way, as Princess Orinjade is sensible and didn't get put out, can we carry on running? There's a stiff breeze."

oOoOo

Pharamond approached Darryl later, somewhat the worse for cobwebs.

"Found a boxroom nobody uses," he said. "We cleaned it out. Will that do?"

Darryl permitted himself to be led up to the boxroom where the other four were still cleaning out corners with determined wands, and – in light of Lilith's experiences – carefully rescuing spiders and putting them out of the window rather than include them in the _evanesco _ spell. Darryl nodded approval.

"Well, pretty much all that remains is to put on a Fidelius Charm, set up a book of all wickedness with the twisted Protean charm to write and receive what's in all the others, and we have ourselves a Marauding room," he said. "I had considered opening a portion of wizarding space tied only to the Blooded, but this is just fine. You haven't covered Protean Charms and the Fidelius Charm? Ah well, you won't learn younger then," he added as they shook their heads.

"Darryl, we haven't come across most stuff that I expect babes like Lilith have known since before starting school" said Jean-Luc, in his forthright fashion. "We will just have to put ourselves together and learn, n'est-ce pas?"

"That's the spirit!" said Darryl, heartily. He proceeded to ruthlessly drill them all – Pharamond at least was taking Charms to ELF and a working knowledge of the Protean Charm at least would not go amiss there. And no Marauder ought to be without a Fidelius Charm.

The Marauding room was set up in short order, and eyes widened as the blank book Darryl had brought there started to fill with everything from the dirigible fart curse to some rather sophisticated magic annotated by Lilith as 'not exactly dark but grubby round the edges'.

"If any potential dark wizard got their hands on this, it would make them very powerful," said Pharamond.

"Dippy idiot, that's why it's only copied to places under the Fidelius Charm so they can't, and it doesn't have to be taken out to copy," said Abelard, who sometimes went directly to the heart of things.

"Quite so, but without the insults," laughed Darryl.

oOoOo

Even Amyetis found it a bit thrilling to have the location of the Marauding room passed to her on the top corridor, and suddenly found a door that had not been visible before; those Marauders in the Cinquieme and Quartieme were mightily impressed and almost awed into silence.

Darryl decided not to make them solemnly swear that they were up to no good. Somehow it did not quite fit the French. He hastily improvised.

"I solemnly swear that mischief is my tool, defending is my goal, loyalty is my watchword," he said.

They raised their hands and repeated it.

Pharamond was in charge of the clock; and Darryl passed out silver knives. As Pharamond nodded they all slit their palms – and not even little Melusine squeaked more than a minimal amount – and then they were mingling blood.

"It is AMAZING!" cried Chantelle.

"And now, I understand so much more," said Amyetis, with deep satisfaction. She was smiling in contentment, the first time Darryl had seen her do so.

"Are we supposed to feel so TIRED?" asked Melusine.

"Yes; it is because you have been involved in serious ritual, even though it was simple to undertake," said Darryl. "Love magic is as simple as love itself; and as profound."

Amyetis was nodding.

"You did not bring me in at first because I had not learned enough to understand," she said. "Now I do."

"And you are my sister," said Darryl. "And now the part of the ritual many people like best: sweet cakes and hot chocolate."

The majority of the new blooded agreed that this was one of the better parts; though the sense of belonging was, as Armand said, too good even for words.

The future of Marauding in Beauxbatons, and in Assyria too, probably, was assured. The oldest here would bring in the Beaux Marauders next year, when it was auspicious, and help the younger two layers to decide if there was anyone suitable in the new intake. Amyetis would meet Marauders in Prince Peak – probably in action, for the so-called Sons of Zirnitra and the rump of the eastern Odessa among them were not about to back off. And there might be those ready to work with Amyetis too.

He had more than fulfilled the unspoken remit Severus had left him with, and it was not quite the end of the Spring semester.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Darryl was not going to leave for the holidays as those in the upper classes of his accelerator class were intending to stand for the OWL – a French examination was not yet available – in chanting; sundry of the Premiere were to hope to cover the NEWT in a year with encouragement from Desolina. The Marauders were those who had most determination, perhaps, but Medé Fouconrouge and Salomé d'Hautbois had a good chance too. As Philomène was the only chanter in her class now Viridian had moved, she too had petitioned to take the OWL and work alongside the Seconde when they moved into the Premiere to cover the NEWT in two years. Olympe had agreed to schedule classes to permit this, so Philomène would be taking chanting a year early in each case. It allowed for a retake, of course; not that Darryl had any thought that such would be needed.

However, in the meantime, an owl arrived with a rather fancy letterhead; and Darryl opened it with a slight frown, glancing at the signature.

It was from Antoine Labelette, the man Darryl had turned into an elf. The writing was forceful and fairly human in nature, and Darryl raised an eyebrow.

It ran,

"_My dear M. Zabini,_

_As you may guess, I have been restored to myself by the kind offices of a M. Potishev of Durmstrang; who has extracted as payment my active participation in the education of other elves and goblins. I have gladly accepted his strictures as the curse you laid upon me has taught me much. _

_Indeed it has taught me that my family might be under a subtle and insidious curse and compulsion at the hands of Achille Villeneuve; and my wife and I believe that our daughter is most affected by this. I would take it as a favour if you would see me to discuss this."_

Darryl frowned; the letter felt genuine enough, and he chanted over it for any lies or hidden things to be revealed.

Nothing untoward appeared.

He wrote back, saying that he would be delighted to receive M. Labelette, but that he preferred not to leave his exam class on a nebulous fear, and wished to clarify all that M. Labellette meant before considering visiting.

On his own home turf, as one might say, with wards around a school and the chance to add more, Darryl felt more ready to meet someone who might hate him rather bitterly and with good reason, than on this person's own home territory. Volodya was nobody's fool though, thought Darryl; and had probably legilimensed Labelette before curing him of his embarrassing form.

oOoOo

The Frenchman held out his hand to Darryl.

"It took me a while to realise that you'd done me a favour," he said, with a wry smile.

"I can imagine that," said Darryl, "and if you look upon it that I have done so, then you're a big man and I give you respect."

"Oh I hated you for while," said M. Labelette. "but I have seen how terrible it is to be an elf – even if not compelled to self punish, and how there is no difference in the thoughts; and I have had to come to terms with how much at the mercy of my other elves I have been, who pretended not to believe I was once the master. And – and I cannot blame them for wanting a little revenge in that, indeed they were remarkably moderate. More so than I think I might have been in their situation. I have vowed to work towards freeing them and paying them to be liveried, and to educate all their offspring according to the price asked by Professor Potishev for freeing me of the form. He is GOOD," he added with feeling.

"Well he did do a year training under Sev Snape, so he ought to be," said Darryl. "I am more glad than I can say that you have learned, and I hope in many ways, you are happier?"

"Well yes, and no," said M. Labelette. "I feel more at peace with myself, but I'm not entirely sure that my wife and I didn't have our heads messed with by Achille; any compulsions I had seem to have vanished with the form change, and my wife has found her love for me enough to overcome them, as our sons have overcome their revulsion at my form for family affection. Indeed they took me to Achille to ask him to undo the curse."

"I bet that was interesting," said Darryl, cynically.

Labelette gave a harsh bark of mirthless laughter.

"At first he would not believe that it was possible and suggested torturing the elf to find out how it had murdered the master and hidden his body in order to make up such an outrageous lie; but when my wife cried and said she had seen it done, by an English chanter, and mentioned your name, the little bastard went grey. I thought he was going to wet himself," he added in some savage pleasure. "The stench of fear was palpable."

Darryl chuckled.

"Well, I never had much to do with Achille; it was my fiancée and her friends he mostly tried to pick on, cast the cruciatus curse on Bella – my lovely Mimi's friend – when she was just thirteen. I wasn't one of those who punished him, but he DOES know my abilities, and he also knows that not only would I not follow him when I was still a racist, but when I got over it, I was friendly with those who would oppose all he stood for. Yes, I too was racist; my love is a full-blood elf, clever and beautiful and reared to be free, and she taught me what a fool I was, and showed me how to legilimens myself to find what had triggered it beyond the usual normal thoughtlessness. I'm glad the change actually ripped out Achille's compulsions; an unlooked for side effect. May I check, though?"

"I was going to ask you to do so," said Labelette, "and my wife and sons also; and Antoinette. She is… out of control and unreasonable."

"Ah," said Darryl. "I am sorry; perhaps I should have checked on her before asking Olyme to expel her. It never occurred to me that a child so young… and she had not the symptoms another child, who HAD been cursed by reading a cursed book. Wand burning is nasty… ah, she burned you, when you were an elf?" as several emotions flickered over Labelette's face.

"Yes… and Professor Potishev took away the cursed wounds of that, too," he said. "I owe him a great deal; and I do not neglect to acknowledge that I owe you much too, though I might wish it had been a less harsh lesson."

"Bear in mind," said Darryl, dryly, "that it might have been harsher. Achille might have used your whole family to attack Prince Peak and then the lesson would have probably been fatal. Sev does NOT muck about when those under his care are endangered."

Labelette paled.

"Then I am the more grateful for a short, if very sharp, shock. Will you legilimens me?" he asked.

"Just done it," said Darryl. "Here, look, are the breaks where the form change and mode of thinking literally snapped the compulsion; it was a bit brute force but eh bien, it worked, and if you want me to make it smoother…"

"No, I am content that they are broken, and that I am aware where and what was in there. It is quite subtle," said Labelette.

"It is, actually," said Darryl. "Obviously Achille read his history and decided to emulate Voldemort; and managed it with a finesse almost worthy of the fishy little creep. I never rated him much, but apparently on mind control spells, he's picked up his game, which we need to be aware of. I presume you DO want to be a part of opposing him, since he's walked all over your brain?"

"YES," said Labelette. "I will go undercover if I need to."

"Not without training in occlumensy, you won't," said Darryl. "Sev's a bit busy, but I'll write to Lucius – Lucius Malfoy – and ask if he won't put you and your sons and wife through a course in occlumensy, if they are of the same mind."

"They are, seeing his weakness before your very name, and over my belief of having been controlled," said Labelette. "Antoinette, however, refuses to believe, and I have asked the elves to watch her at all times to make sure she does not contact Le Roi Soleil, as he likes to be called, and warn him. They are willing to avoid returning to my previous harsh rule," he added.

"Well, in this case, I will come to your abode; this is serious enough that my exam students must do without me for a few days," said Darryl. "Give me an hour to arrange matters, and I shall be at your disposal," he reflected wryly once again how French almost forced one into flowery periods!

oOoOo

Mme Labelette had a compulsion of low order, and Darryl quickly revealed it, smiling and telling her that the power of love, the greatest magic in the universe, had virtually negated it in any case; and proceeded to unravel the slightly more complex compulsions in the two young men, demonstrating as he did so that they had a deeper layer which would respond to Achille's voice to make them obey without question almost any command, even killing a family member.

"And at that, he hasn't managed it quite as well as Voldemort, who tied it to a Parseltongue command word, as I understand it," said Darryl, "which could only be unravelled by a parselmouth. As Achille is barely competent in any language requiring more than two syllables to a word, I doubt he'd ever master parseltongue."

"Eh bien, it is as well he is not more competent; I already feel as though you have trampled all over my brain, and what has been done – it is insupportable!" said the older of the young men.

Darryl shrugged.

"Once you've learned a bit more from Lucius, if you are as serious as your father about keeping an eye on Achille, then you will pick it out readily in others, and if you cannot remove it, you can ask for aid from those who can, if you think them otherwise decent people."

The younger shrugged.

"Decent, however, is something we have thought ourselves until Papa explained more about house elves and how we have not been decent towards them, that we have betrayed our blood by not showing loyalty to them as they have to us. I am dubious about what you call decent, equality for goblins, but on the other hand, as I have been taught deliberate lies by Le Roi Soleil, I will listen to what you see as truth, and make up my own mind. Any man who has placed even a suggestion in my thought that maman should not carry a wand because women are incapable is a loser because he is afraid of being bested by a woman. I will learn more."

"No man can say fairer," said Darryl. He sighed. "And now, Antoinette," he said.

Antoinette was brought, inexorably, by a pair of house elves. She screamed on seeing him.

"No, he is horrid!" she cried.

"M. Labelette, I have to ask if it is your will that I legilimens your juvenile daughter," said Darryl.

"It is," said Labelette.

Darryl moved forward and gently raised the screaming girl's chin, absently binding her ankles to stop her kicking him. He peered into her muddled thoughts, trying to make sense of them, and found the occasion where she had been honoured to meet Le Roi Soleil.

"Ah," he said, "far more extensive than on anyone else in the family; firstly he has increased what was already an admiration to bring it to near worship. He has placed in her a serious compulsion to do whatever she can to disrupt and upset those half goblins and muggleborn in the school, with violence and pain, in order to make them depressed and ultimately to fail, so that the experiment of including them would also fail and show them up to be the inadequates they are. Somehow the logic of needing to disrupt them to make them inadequates, if he truly believes them to be so, escapes me."

"It is rather specious," said M. Labellette. "Can you remove the compulsion?"

"I can," said Darryl, "and I will need to chant to allow her to retain the memory of it."

"Does she have to remember something so awful?" cried Mme Labelette.

"Madame," said Darryl, "if she does not remember it, she will not know WHY her behaviour was unacceptable, and moreover she will be open to being used in the same way again. When I have finished with her, she will be able to recognise any attempt at mind control on herself, and protest it."

"Do it," said M. Labelette.

Darryl walked around Antoinette, chanting softly. When he had finished, she was crying softly.

"That man is a pervert," said Darryl, coldly. "A compulsion to adore, it's little short of grooming for rape. You will never be used by him again; and I apologise, Antoinette, that I did not use legilimensy before you left school. I should have done so as a matter of course because I should have realised that so young a girl should not have had so high a level of unreasoning hate. I did; because of something traumatic that happened when I was very young, that I associated, wrongly, with the family servants who were trying to take me away from it. Villeneuve and his ilk are so little that they have to fear that the one thing they can boast of, which is pure blood, is shown by any means to be the only thing worth having. I learned not to be a racist; but only with help to understand what had happened. You find elves and goblins unpleasant to look at, in your natural thoughts, and think no further. You have been somewhat spoilt, as the baby of the family, and perhaps that has not helped. But you have also had the unnatural touch of that lying little toerag in your head, and I hope you'll get over it, and learn to be happy and without the hate he has burned into your brain."

"I – I will never forgive him for that!" said Antoinette.

"Best way to not forgive it, is to oppose his ideals," said Darryl, laconically. "Me, I'll be helping set up a school to teach goblins and half bloods and anyone else who wants."

"And I'll come and help you! I cannot hide my disgust at Achille Villeneuve, however much legilimensy and occlumensy I learn!" cried the oldest brother. "He has almost RAPED my little sister, and though she's been a brat at times, a lot of that isn't her fault. I will gladly join you, Zabini!" he chuckled, "besides, the thought is still in my mind of his face when maman mentioned your name," he added.

Darryl left them to it; he told M. Labelette that if they needed help as a family, he would make himself available, as would Lucius and Severus. They knew better than most about the subtleties of brain rape by dark wizards.

And then he went back to his exam students, glad that Agata Bacsó had accepted Antoinette in Durmstrang, where there were some very decent kiddies to keep an eye out for her.

oOoOo

The holidays were fairly stress free for Darryl's chanters, largely because he taught them all a chant to help them relax. For the other exam students, despite Olympe Maxime's declared intent to instil calm and a nurturing atmosphere away from potentially pushy parents, there was much less relaxation. Darryl was reminded of the exam hysteria which had prevailed in Hogwarts, something Severus would never permit in Prince Peak. Indeed, as Darryl understood, David was instituting Severus' rules about no books in dormitories, and enforced leisure without prep, in term time as well as for the holidays. It should lead to better results in the long term.

Here in Beauxbatons there were rules forbidding text books in dormitories which were flagrantly broken, and when Darryl confiscated a book being read in bed, under the covers, by the expedient of a _lumos_ spell, he had been asked by Madame Maxime to return the book to its owner as he had to study for exams. Darryl had argued that if he was breaking the rules so flagrantly, he should be made to go and ask for his text book and be supervised in studying it, as he was untrustworthy; but Olympe had shrugged, and said that children would be children.

Darryl would be glad when the exams were over and he might leave. Treating young adults as children and failing to give them skills of self discipline and how to live in the real world was really starting to get his goat!

It took only Laurenzia Filotti to throw a hysterical fit and declare that Amyetis was interfering with her exams by the way she looked at her to make Darryl long to shake the lot of them until what they laughingly referred to as their brains ran down their noses.

He proceeded to ignore all protocol and proper usage, and with the aid of the oldest Marauders – into which he included Amyetis – to define a circle of hysteria repression around the whole castle. Being subject to attack from within by such dark creatures as the raging hormones of teenage girls it was unlikely to last permanently without a much bigger ritual and more chanters; but it should, as he said grimly, last the exams and save HIS sanity.

"The Filotti girl is a fool," said Amyetis, "unlike her sister, who is also in an exam year, and takes it in her stride."

"That could be because Lucretzia didn't drop out of chanting, and has a lot more will power than her older sister," said Darryl, dryly. "Be thankful that the Romanian girl is down a year. She could break my hysteria exclusion by the power of dark tantrums."

They laughed.

"So you wished her onto our year instead," laughed Philomène. "She's buckled down to work fairly hard, on the whole now; too terrified of extra lessons with you not to!" she added cheerfully.

"Am I so scary?" asked Darryl.

"You can be when you're in a snit," said Jean-Luc. "I mean, when you wax irritable."

Darryl chuckled.

"I don't mind the phrase 'in a snit'" he said. "I find so many customs here different and irritating, that I fear I am more in a snit than I would have expected. Dim children, I don't mind; it's dim customs that I find harder to handle."

"You mean, making us precious and then expecting us to automatically to gain dignitas on leaving," said Pharamond. "Well, some of us at least are less precious."

"You lot are almost what keeps me from running away screaming," said Darryl. They laughed and poked him for that.

"Oh well, plenty of brats to keep the tradition going," said Pharamond, "and to come. Zena is breeding, thanks to your intervention, Papa wrote to me that I am to expect a half brother about the time the next school year begins. If the brat is lucky he'll be in as one of the oldest in his class, or I can bring him on to be the youngest in the year before."

"Congratulations!" said Darryl, warmly.

"When will you blood him in?" asked Philomène.

"I don't know," said Pharamond. "Give the brat a chance to want to Maraud!"

Darryl laughed.

"Well it does tend to run in families. Your own offspring will be born blooded; but I understand that those born blooded do not always Maraud, but may choose to support. There are a layer of supporters at Hogwarts who are blooded, and a lot of them grew up with the idea, but who support without marauding. And by the way, I'm hungry, and it's breakfast time, and if I have to look at another croissant I shall be ill. I'm going to sign us out for a chanting field trip and give you a brief lesson in geomancy, David Fraser style, to the best sausage house in Austria."

Sausages for breakfast might have been looked at dubiously by a lot of French, but what Darryl Zabini said was good was, in the opinion of his satellites, very good indeed.

And the idea of more protein when they ran every morning actually made a very great deal of sense.

oOoOo

The return of the body of the school had those who had remained over the holidays even more wound up than usual, since this meant a stage closer to the exams. However, as nobody appeared to be hysterical – or not, as Darryl wrote to Mimi, any more than was usual for these French – the line of what he personally called proactive glumbumbling appeared to have held.

This was the term of most Quidditch fixtures too, which for Beauxbatons were played against sundry private clubs, which were not a part of the Professional sphere. Madame Maxime did not approve of the little darlings risking themselves against real teams. Darryl was a little equivocal over this; Hogwarts had never played professional teams, the interhouse matches being generally sufficient to hone skills, and he doubted that Severus would have copied Durmstrang but for two very good reasons. Firstly, to highlight goblins and part goblins and give them the chance to shine; and secondly because Prince Peak was training talents, and Quiddich was one of them. Essentially, thought Darryl with a grin, Severus was stealing the most Ravenclawish youngsters in the wizarding world and training them all to be as loyal and hard working as Hufflepuffs, as good at lateral thinking as Slytherins, and as crazily brave as Gryffindors.

Well, why not? People of the level of talent to be Ravers OUGHT to be flexible enough too. And both Hermione and Krait had been offered Ravenclaw house; as indeed had he, though he had almost forgotten it. As had Gorbrin. A sad indictment for poor Flitters' house, to have the brightest and the best shy away from it. And now Sev was stealing those who could have made it fly again.

Well, people like the Changs would hopefully set that straight. And Powers help anyone when Flitters retired and someone like Ming Chang was head of Ravenclaw… Darryl laughed out loud at that thought, hastily explained that he had recalled a silly joke someone had told in the holidays, and settled down to watch the powder blue Quidditch robes line up against the Mademoiselles des Armientiers, a rather primmer ladies' club than one might infer if one knew the muggle song.

The play might best be described as 'sedate' and with this sort of opposition expected, it became apparent why Beauxbatons rarely won Quidditch matches against serious opposition.

The match against Hellibore's in the following week should see a little more challenge; Darryl considered Engelbert Hellibore a bit of an old bore with precious little hell to him, but he did at least encourage his boys to play up. Girls at Hellibore's only played Quidditch with the permission of their parents. They actually managed to be more precious than the Beauxbatons youngsters, which was going some, but apparently some of them had been a little bit marauderfied – Silvina's word – at a joint Yule celebration. Darryl enjoyed getting news from Prince Peak. Somehow he doubted whether Marauding as such would ever take off in Hellibore's – though you never knew – but then, there had to be somewhere to send duffers who couldn't hack it at Hogwarts or even Beauxbatons.

As it happened, the Quidditch team were looking forward to a bit more of a challenge, or at least Pharamond and Amyetis were.

"It'll be an opportunity to meet some possible opposition for the Triwizard too," he said to Darryl. "Inge is keen."

Inge Carbo was the school Quidditch star; and could have made a good showing against Hogwarts. She had dropped out of chanting fairly early on, and declined to run, but her assiduous broom practice took the place of the morning run in keeping up her stamina. She had been heard to complain that she wished she had been transferred to Prince Peak for her final two years to study under Viktor Krumm, as she was Swiss, and it was nearer to home; but Darryl privately wondered if she could have kept up with Severus' stringent standards, or Viktor's sense of team discipline. Amyetis was a less talented player, but she was a better team player, for all her personal standoffishness. She did sterling work in goal; and Inge was the Seeker. This always tended to make divas and loveys of the more precious youngsters; and though Inge was kind enough with the little ones, as head of games, when helping them play, she was plainly trying to highlight Inge when playing.

It was interesting to see, when the Hellibore's team turned up, that they included some of those reckoned by the Prince Peak crowd to be in with a shout at being Triwizard champion. Darryl recognised the names of Gerald Kettle, Spartacus Mandrake and Thorvald Keil; Granville Kettle, older brother of Gerald, would have left. Ulysses Hobday and Guy Speedwell were also going to be too old, which was hard lines on Guy, whose older brother had been a hopeful for the previous Triwizard. The team played one fifth former, Urban Chaunter.

Darryl knew the Speedwells slightly and nodded to Guy.

"All boys? The girls too precious?" he asked.

Guy grimaced.

"There is a decent player in the fifth, a kid called Orella Feverfew, and between you and me, she could play RINGS around me or Ulysses; but she's rather fond of herself."

"Oh, yes, I know the type," said Darryl. "Yes, best not to let her get above herself if you generally play with people from the combined sixth."

"She'll be Spartac's responsibility next year, and nothing to do with any of us who are leaving," said Guy. "Which Granville – our captain – is profoundly grateful for. What's your team like?"

"Rather a curate's egg; excellent in parts," said Darryl.

"Heh, snap," said Guy. "Well, it's all good fun, isn't it?"

And that, thought Darryl, was the best sense in which anyone might play Quidditch; and what truly made it the beautiful game.

The match was hard fought; Beauxbatons had more talent, but if Hellibore had learned one thing it was to instil team spirit in his players, and the Hellibore beaters kept Inge occupied long enough to allow Spartacus to grab the snitch.

Inge was frustrated and angry; but the hysteria line held, and she remembered her beautifully trained manners, at least in public.

Darryl was glad he had decided to cover the Quidditch pitch as well.

This was the last bit of fun before exams started in earnest with the chanting; and at least it had been fun, and good sport.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Lucius Malfoy blew into the school in his usual urbane, elegant and studiously caddish way, as Darryl said to him. Lucius laughed.

"Well, I do try to please, you know. All OWLs this year?"

"Have a heart, Lucius; even I can't manage to bring on a group to NEWT in just a year, though I think some of them might have scraped a pass at it, even so."

"Indeed? Well I look forward to examining THEM," said Lucius.

"Some of those coming up through the school have fey blood and will be very glad to support the next chant we end up doing," said Darryl.

"What, you're not telling me you managed to get any to Maraud?" Lucius elevated a sculptured eyebrow.

"Lucius, you know fine well that kids are kids regardless of background; if given the opportunity to be so," said Darryl.

"Indeed; and these ones are only a bit precious, not downtrodden," said Lucius. "How many?"

"Only eleven taking the exam; and one of those is in the fourth. The Troisième, I mean," amended Darryl.

"I don't count in foreign," said Lucius, a piece of cheek that left Darryl gasping.

"For the world's pre-eminent ancient runes expert that's coming it a bit strong!" he said.

"Well, French isn't ancient, is it?" said Lucius. "Frankish now…." And with this piece of Malfoyesque casuistry he strolled on in.

"Piece of work, Lucius really is a piece of work," muttered Darryl, laughing.

oOoOo

Lucius hesitated briefly and divided up the chanters into two groups of eight and three: those from the two upper classes and Philomène, purely on the grounds of her bloodsong and because he thought she probably suited the older ones better; and because by including her, this was a group which covered the cardinal and ordinal points. The three in the lower exam year would work better together for being in the smaller group.

Neither Trudi Paganas nor Medé Fouconrouge made any protest about including Philomène; and it was in the spirit of enquiry that Salomé d'Haubois asked,

"Why then do we include the little girl?"

"Eight; better circle coverage," said Lucius, "one time when eight is arithmantically good, as you should realise, mademoiselle. To put her with three boys who are the younger chanters also is not conformable; and unfair on her."

"Oh, I see; thank you for explaining," said Salomé.

"You're welcome," murmured Lucius, who was used to people who just wanted to know.

The two groups chanted assiduously, and the circle they defined was definitely impervious to tree frogs. As Marc Guiscard also got creative, it was later discovered that it was also impervious to chocolate frogs, as was discovered when sundry people found their pockets emptying of sweeties when crossing the great hall.

This however was just one of those random events of the wizarding world, and beyond some initial surprise, those people with chocolate frogs learned to skirt the frog exclusion zone.

The written exam would be sat alongside the other exams, as Lucius had to flit around Europe like, as Darryl said rudely, the original blue tailed fly, since there was a scarcity of accredited examiners.

It took three days for Darryl to undo the complex little curse that left both his buttocks and his farts bright blue. Lucius was a very competent jinxer.

"That'll larn me to tease one of the premiment chanters" he said cheerfully to his oldest Marauders.

"Fancy him still liking to jinx people!" said Philomène.

"It's what helps Lucius deal with all the bad things he's seen; being able to be young at heart," said Darryl, tolerantly. "As you can feel, he's our brother; and he enjoys life to the full."

"I like Lucius," said Pharamond. "Oh, how much fun we are going to have watching Achille fall hook line and sinker for the Book of Thoth jape! I'm glad my dad is a competent occlumens, since you discovered the nasty creature has learned legilimensy; he carried off the matter of the ostraca when Achille came to ask about it with offhand disinterest. Achille got stroppy, and papa threatened to put it up for auction if he and Lucius were both going to try to demand that he sell; which had Achille getting monstrously upset because Lucius could buy FRANCE never mind Achille. So he asked to see it, and I bet he has a pensieve, because he stared hard at it, papa said, and then managed to drop it and stand on it. Papa told him that he was a clumsy peasant and threw him out. I had the letter this morning: hilarious!"

"I thought you were buoyant," said Darryl. "I was listening to the lot of you, and I think everyone did well, despite Marc getting creative there.

"Oh, well, Marc! You know…." said Jean-Luc; which was enough said.

Of the chanters, only Amyetis and Trudi Paganus in the Terminale, and the three boys in the Seconde had other exams, and if this was a matter of some concern to Trudi, none of the others had any real worries. Trudi was studying hard with a view to returning to her native Switzerland with a few unusual subjects to be able to teach. Like Amyetis she was taking Divination and Astronomy, and if her Divinational skills were not great, she would at least be able to recognise and bring on anyone who really was skilled. She admired Amyetis without an ounce of envy, and genuinely wished her luck. Trudi was also taking Defence Against the Dark Arts, a wise skill for any teacher to have, as Darryl had solemnly agreed when she had discussed with him how chanting could enhance that; and Care of Magical Beasts. Darryl knew better than to tease her that this would cover the dangerous care of any teenager; Trudi did not have a well developed sense of humour.

Amyetis was taking three ELFs, the third being potions; she preferred to do well on three than scrape a pass on four, though she regretted not being able to take her chanting further this year. She might do a NEWT alongside her demonology studies at Prince Peak. And she despised the three in the Terminale who had opted to learn to chant who had NOT chosen the accelerator class to enable them to get any kind of qualification in it, especially Marcellina Chaudron who could have been very good indeed.

The three boys in the Seconde were taking a – for Beauxbatons – fairly standard seven ELMs, and having an eighth in chanting was some kudos to them. And, said Stephan, would have been more use to Erzuli, had she joined the accelerator class, than trying to give house room to some grotty old spirit which couldn't even adequately curse a kid in the Troisième.

To be fair, the vessel through which Maitre Carrefour had been working had been very flawed; but it was felt to be a good point, even by Marc. The year in the ECC had left the rivals less full of rivalry, in working towards common goals; and Darryl hoped that by the next semester, when they were seniors and should be totally beyond childish spats, they should start to realise that they were very much alike in many ways. With luck it would degenerate into a friendly rivalry devoid of malice; even if Pharamond did not feel them suitable to bring in to be blooded.

Darryl had very little to do while the exams were on, save to continue in teaching the lessons of the youngest in the school. It made a nice change; and he grinned to himself at the amazed comments from the other staff members over the lack of hysterics.

The chanting written went well, and all reported that it had been straightforward; and Amyetis asked anxiously if they had missed anything. Darryl looked over the exam, and laughed.

"I think I took you all beyond this," he said. "I doubt any of you missed anything; the Cinquieme could have scraped through this."

"Good; I am glad not to have missed anything obvious," said Amyetis. "My exams are now over and I can relax."

Apart from a few more ELMs to go, most of the exams were over, and life was quiet.

It was too good to last.

The chant calmed people and prevented them from working themselves up into hysterics; but largely this was directed at the conscious mind. The subconscious mind was still subject to its own wanderings in sleep, and one of the girls in the Seconde who had not opted for chanting not only dreamed, but took to sleepwalking, alerting the staff – and everyone else – by waking up in the middle of the school garden shrieking in terror for having no idea how she came to be there.

Darryl got a glower from Amelie Duvall when he remarked cheerfully that unless a banshee had invaded, someone was trying to raise dark creatures like Katti Krächzen or Celestina Warbeck. Olympe gathered the sobbing girl up to soothe and demanded that Darryl legilimens her to find out what was wrong.

Darryl did so, and shrugged.

"Studying under the bedclothes, Olympe; and not something that is going to stop until you have prep at a reasonable time of day, like after lunch, and take the ban on schoolbooks in the dorms seriously. You aren't going to listen to me though, I don't suppose. I do wish you'd talk to Severus though on his rigidly enforced periods of relaxation," he spoke in English.

"Severus 'as periods of enforced relaxation? I thought 'e drive 'is pupils 'ard?" said Olympe.

"Not really; he encourages them to give their best, and makes them work hard in school and in prep periods, and he also makes them play and have hobbies, and bans schoolbooks anywhere but the prep rooms and classrooms," said Darryl. "The older classes may apply for permission to do private study outside. But he reckons that growing bodies need rest, work and play in equal measure, and that it was a failure to take that into account that led to exam hysteria. The kids at Prince Peak do NOT have exam hysteria."

Olympe finally looked thoughtful.

"I will speak then to Severus," she said.

Darryl's sigh of relief was not audible. It was about time the precious darlings got a chance to be precious only at times when it would actually help them more.

Perhaps one day, Marauders in Beauxbatons would even feel able to use their chanting to perform charms outside their normal ability to perpetrate outrageous pranks; but somehow he doubted that any of them would manage to cure people of not being tigers – though that really was a very Bellaish sort of preoccupation – or make people play silly songs with their feet. It would take a few layers of Marauders to cure the Beauxbatons crowd of being anything but… well, sedate. Even Pharamond needed to be gently pushed into considering imaginative mischief. It was almost enough to want to prank the school himself. However perhaps it wasn't such a good idea; it might set the staff against chanting too much.

Well, he might have the babes give a concert to the exam classes to cheer them up, using songs with colours in, allied with colour changing chants to cycle everyone in earshot through different colours.

Or maybe on the other hand, even that might be too much.

Darryl sighed.

Well, he'd made a start; and Marauding must either find its own momentum or die out in the French school. He had at least established some families who would oppose Achille; cured a child of being cursed; wrested another from the control of Achille; encouraged the wand-burned children to move forward after curing them; and made some people think.

It wasn't a bad start really; and apparently Desolina had learned when NOT to be gentle during the time Durmstrang was occupied by Russian supremacists. Pharamond, Jean-Luc and Abelard would help her, as would Philomène.

All he had to do was endure a couple more gentle Quidditch matches against old pupils and parents, both scratch matches and the sort of games that would be hilarious at Hogwarts but here somehow managed to be imbued with the spirit of tea at the Vicarage in nice improving books.

Darryl did consider passing on the idea to David though. The thought of the school team playing such earlier luminaries as Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, or against parents like Lucius and Severus made him chuckle. The kids would have real matches on their hands, and the older ones would, too, act the goat just for the fun of it.

Darryl laughed a little, and sighed a little.

Beauxbatons would take time; but it was no longer his bag.

Soon he would be leaving; and then he could marry Mimi, and wherever they ended up teaching was immaterial; because they would be together, surrounded by the most profound magic of all – love.


End file.
